Palpitations
by MrsCuddles
Summary: It made him freeze on the spot and slowly raise his head in her direction. His jaw fell down. One of his hand was resting on his stomach and the other was still in the air, where he was moving it, his mouth agape. The shock she could see in his eyes and on his face made her question the impulsive choice she had just made.
1. A thousand words

**I'm sorry, but here I come again lol This one is really long, I had to split it into parts. I don't know if I'll revisit it and make it into just two parts or leave it as it is (not more than 4 chapters anyway if I keep long, maybe three if I cut some stuff).**

**This mainly takes place in episode 5, season 2. I made some modifications, though: I'm keeping Zelanski and Jessica as supporting characters, because I really liked them and thought they had great potential for twists and developments in the plot.**

**A/N: Sorry for whatever grammar mistake you might find.**

_**Palpitations**_

#You've got to S-M-I-L-E,

to be H-A-DOUBLE P-Y#

Mike gave Paige a full weirded out look and tried to hold back his laugh. He furrowed his eyebrows and froze his fingers on the keyboard of his FBI computer.

She smiled with a mouthful of exotic fruit and looked at him curiously.

"Wha?"

"What was that?"

"Shirley Temple!" She replied, shocked at his lack of knowledge. "You've never heard that song before?"

"Nooope" He made the last syllable pop and hid a smile by lowering his chin to his chest. His eyes darted back to the screen of his laptop, as he finished his umpteenth report that week.

"Seriously? My mom used to make me watch old movies!" Paige defended herself, popping another grape into her mouth and throwing one at him soon after, when his chest made a rumbling sound and he erupted in laughter.

"Don't laugh at me - don't you laugh at me! You know what, you're the one who's supposed to be cheering me up right now! Okay?" She playfully tried to look offended, but the fact that she was trying to hold back her own laugh was making it very hard. "Do you know what I would give to know where my girls are at?"

Touching his lips, Mike gave her his best puppy eyed face.

"I-sorry, I'm really sorry", he concluded, after he had calmed down. He slowly shut the computer and set it down on the floor. He took in their surroundings: papers were scattered everywhere and they had been in his room for hours. His limbs started to feel numb and heavy, but so was his mind.

He needed to slow down for a moment.

He passed a hand on his face and rubbed furiously at his eyes. They were burning like hell. _'I could really use some drops right now'._

Paige watched him throughout all that with an adoring smile, as she chewed on her snacks.

"D'you know, first time I saw you you were singing karaoke?" He sleep-deprivedly* said, crossing his arms and stretching his legs out. She froze mid-chewing and a fair blush coloured her cheeks. Though, it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

She lowered her bowl and set it down on the floor between her legs.

"Thaaat's right, it was."She stared at an undefined space in front of her. Memories of the first night they laid eyes on each other came rushing back. A specific one coming to mind.

"Didn't I pee in front of you two?"

Mike didn't even let her finish forming her question that he had already given her a positive answer. The fair blush on her cheeks appeared and disappeared again in the blink of an eye.

Paige tried her best to avoid his eyes, shame wounding her sense of pride. Mike moved from his spot, cracking his limbs in the process, and slowly crawled over to her. His eyes scanned her petite, yet toned form with warm affection.

"Well, a lady doesn't dwell..."

She wanted to say more. Maybe say something in her defence, to make it look like she had had a few more drinks than usual back then to be able to sing in public and not blow her cover as Bobby Moi's mistress. She didn't have the chance though, as Mike got on all fours in front of her and leant over, titling her head back. He caged her in between his dresser and his chest and stubbornly pressed his lips to hers.

It was a different kiss than their usual ones: it was slow, chaste and non-sexual. Well not really: she'd always have that tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever it came to him – the guy had changed radically since he'd been back from DC. He'd become more self-confident, strong and mind-set on his goals. It was a new, all around sexy Mike Warren and she had to confess she couldn't really complain, even though their sexual attraction had started when he was still the shy, naive agent fresh out of Quantico.

Paige smiled into the kiss and softly opened her eyes to look back at him when he pulled away. His eyes scanned hers and moved to examine her golden features; he hinted a soft smile and let his back hit the dresser beside her. He took her hand and lightly stroke her knuckles with his fingertips, concentrating on her pale pink coloured nails. She made a sigh of contentment at the sight –and feeling – of their skin touching.

"You're ganna catch these guys", he reassured her. "I know it."

His palm laid on the back of her hand and his fingers swiftly slipped between hers: they both observed how their hands fit perfectly together, like the two missing pieces of a puzzle.

They shared an intense stare. He was about to kiss her again, when she spoke with a barely audible shade of sadness in her voice.

"And when I do... and the buses case's over... you're ganna go back to DC?"

Mike's shoulders fell. He avoided her eyes as she gazed back at him, waiting for an answer. She took into the manly, firm line of his jaw and the fair smudge of stubble that contoured his full, smooth lips: she wanted to cover that sculpted jaw with her kisses, biting and torturing the spot right under his chin. His weak spot.

She hadn't even realised minutes had passed until his voice startled her: he hadn't caught her staring, but she felt embarrassed at the thought of getting lost into observing his face. '_Pull yourself back together, P.'_

"I don't know", he confessed. He lowered his eyes and let his left fingers trace the path of her pulse on her wrist, as he took their entwined hands onto his lap.

They had never talked about what was going on between them at that specific time. He was too busy working on shutting down the Caza Cartel and she was trying desperately to resolve the Tinker Bells mystery. After all, she had a promise to keep.

They simply had no time to sit down and talk things through. Although, considering what they did and the undetermined amount of time they had left to spend together, it would be probably for the best if they did.

"Mhm. Gotta keep your options open." Paige nodded, understandingly. If things had been different – if she had been different -, they could've talked about it and she could've felt hurt, asked him to stay.

But things were not different and so weren't they.

Paige didn't even know where they technically stood: were they friends? Friends with benefits? Lovers?

All she knew was that she liked that bubble they had created - just for the two of them- whatever they'd decide to call it.

Mike was not an easy guy. He had changed during those months in DC: he had become more professional and had developed a sense of leadership that made him feel secure about himself. Something he hadn't been during his time at Graceland . He felt like he had undoubled himself in two different people: there was Levi-Mike, the naive and goofy rookie, and then there was DC-Mike, the rockstar agent that had successfully thrown Jeremiah Bello in jail for the rest of his days.

When he had moved to DC, he had buried Levi-Mike under the pile of cases and responsibilities he had found there: he had fused the two versions of himself together and stepped up his game, leading himself back to where it all started. To Graceland.

He had been sure he was ready, that he had put everything behind.

'_It'll be just for a weekend, no big deal_', it had been DC-Mike's first thought after Briggs's call. But then, when he had spotted Paige and greeted her – he still wanted to slap himself for the way he had engulfed her in a rather awkward hug – he _knew_ that there was no getting out of this: he was fucked.

His crush on her was still there and the fire he had always felt when he stood next to her, laid eyes on her, heard her voice or even smelt her scent, was still alive and burning more than ever. He doubted it'd ever weaken. Every time he saw the emerald green colour of her doe eyes, that burning fire poked and he'd feel like coming to life again, stronger than before.

She had the power of making him feel better under any circumstances. She had the power of making _him_ better.

When silence settled over them and the conversation was left unfinished – it was better to put it on hold, for now -, Paige laid her temple against his shoulder and sighed, still looking at their entwined hands onto his lap: they were both tired, but neither one of them wanted to go sleep. They had to take advantage of moments like this.

Mike's stiff shoulders and muscles softened and he relaxed, like he did every time she was around – she probably didn't even know what she could do to him.

He buried his nose into her hair and left a kiss on the top of her head. When he heard her making a content noise, he closed his eyes and puckered his lips a few more times, planting as many kisses as he could right onto the crown of her head. Her blond, silky hair tickled his nose and he was intoxicated with the strawberry scent of her conditioner.

Their little bubble had formed again around them and nothing was going to burst it.

x

"Mike,"

Paige's moan was just above a whisper, as she arched into him and dug her nails into his back. His movements were slow and precise, aimed to make her feel as much pleasure she was able to take.

She held onto his shoulder and threw her head back with a silent sigh: one trembling hand raised to caress his face, to feel him closer on a deeper level – if that was possible.

They'd always end like this: emotional talks would lead to affectionate gestures, and affectionate gestures would lead to make out sessions. Which, inevitably, would lead to them in bed, naked to the bone. Literally and figuratively. Their passion was beyond any level they had experienced with anyone before.

Mike groaned and touched his forehead to her sweaty temple: he squinted his eyes and kept moving, feeling her shaking with pleasure beneath him. It wasn't long before he followed her lead and stilled on top of her, releasing a throaty moan right into her ear. His face buried into her hair spread on the pillow. Paige held him close, lazily scraping his shoulder blades, until she felt his breaths slowing down. She let him rest like that for a few seconds, before he rolled over to the other side of the bed and laid next to her; eyes closed.

His body was on fire.

He felt peacefully relaxed, like he'd always feel at her side: she could make everything go away. His worries, his problems and his frustrations had all been swept away and left forgotten amidst the tangled sheets and the spiral of their hungry kisses and hot caresses.

Paige glanced at the time: usually, he'd be out running at sunrise, but she was glad he had decided to skip it this time and found another way of _taking his mind off things_.

"God... thank you", she heard Mike breathing out in a husky, low voice beside her. She chuckled, rolling on her side, and leaned her chin on the crook of his elbow: he had crossed his arms behind his head and she found that extremely sexy. She lightly traced his bicep with the tip of her fingers as she looked up at him. He was staring at the ceiling, but quickly looked down to fix his gaze into hers.

"For what?"

Mike smiled, taking into her glowing appearance. He was learning to love this: having her around was amazing, but being able to see her like this, bare and simple, was even better. It was a side of her that was reserved to him. _Only_ him.

"For making everything go away and giving me a chance to slow down," he kissed the tip of her nose and she scrunched it up. "Who needs sleep when I have you?"

"Shut up!"

Paige hit his chest playfully and he extended his arm, wrapping it around her back and pulling her into him. She draped her arm around his torso and rested her warm cheek on his chest. She could feel his breath on the top of her head, where he was using his lips to caress her scalp.

"I could really get used to this...", he whispered. As if it were a secret between just the two of them. Well, technically, it was. Even though they both knew that everybody in the house were well aware that she'd spent more nights in _his_ room than into her own.

" 'Cause you haven't already, Levi?", Paige mocked him and started drawing patterns on his stomach. She felt his chest tremble as he stifled a chuckle.

"No, I mean _this_ as a therapy to let the steam out. It's as effective as a mile run, if not more, and..." He lowered his voice and she could feel her skin shivering under his touch. "It's much more enjoyable..."

"You're basically saying you want me to act like a punching bag for you, Mike"

"What? No! I didn't me-"

She chuckled: the sudden change of his tone signalled that he was getting alarmed she had misunderstood his words and taken them the wrong way. No matter how cocky or confident he had become, he'd always be so insecure when it came to things like this. It was just plain adorable.

She laid her hand where his heart was and looked up at him.

"Relax! I know you'd never put the word _punching_ in the same sentence as me", she pressed her lips against his in a soft kiss, pulling a few millimetres away. "_Thrusting_, on the other hand..."

Mike bit his lip. She did things to him and if he had had any doubts about whether she might be aware or not of what an effect she had on him, right now he was sure that she knew she was his weakness.

In an attempt to mask the shiver she had sent up his spine, he wiggled his eyebrows. A genuine, radiating smile spread on her face and she let out a laugh. _'God, that sound', _he thought. Was there anything about her that wasn't perfect?

"Idiot."

He chuckled and leaned his head back, closing his eyes in relaxation and lazily running his fingers up and down her back, after he had lightly loosened his grip. Paige took advantage of that and hid her face in the crook of his neck, teasing the skin with her teeth until she reached his clavicle.

"Mhm", hearing his sounds of appreciation encouraged her to keep going. She ran her hand down his stomach and played with the hair that led down to his crotch, caressing the soft skin there. She slipped the tip of her tongue out and traced the bite marks she had just left on his neck: his skin was salty due to their previous activities and the guttural sound she heard coming from deep down his throat and felt vibrating against her lips set her on fire once again.

"_I hope my future kids'll sound like you when they laugh._"

Paige froze, eyes wide.

Sensing the sudden halt of her movements, Mike shifted and peeked down at her. "You okay?"

No, she was not okay.

They were in the middle of the afterglow of their _great sex_, petting and cuddling like two horny teenagers and he had to go and ruin everything by dropping the K-bomb. They hadn't even had the chance to talk about their situation and he was already making plans about building a house with a picket white fence, a Labrador dog and apple pies left to cool on the windowsills?

Okay, maybe she was overreacting. But kids? Seriously? The guy was not even his late 20s yet and had already thought about that? She wasn't ready. Hell, she wasn't even ready to commit yet!

She didn't even know if this – whatever it was that they were doing – was going to last. If it was some kind of relationship.

Mike took her away from her thoughts by grabbing her chin and rubbing it softly with his thumb. He tried to meet her eyes, but she avoided them. She knew that, if he took a good look at them, he'd know her thoughts. He could read her like an open book.

"Paige?"

"I-I'm fine. I just... remembered I have to go to the headquarters at-at 9. I should probably get going...", she murmured and pulled herself out of his embrace. He didn't look convinced, but the smile at the corner of his lips as he propped himself up on one elbow hinted that he had probably bought that.

'_Good job'_, she told herself.

"It's barely 6. You don't have to be there for another 3 hours. Come back here..." He purred into her ear from behind, sneaking his arms around her waist and pulling her back. He rested his chin on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. Paige bit her lip, as she felt his mouth making its way down her neck.

"Mike", she touched his forearms and tried to pry herself from him. "I need to get ready."

She tried not to sound too harsh, as she finally ripped his arms away and got up to recollect her clothes scattered on the floor. She didn't look back at him: she knew she'd give in if she did.

He'd be there. Waiting for her. Looking all sexy, lusty and attractive, with his amazing sex hair, killing abs and seductive eyes. One look and she'd find her legs tangled with his strong, muscled ones. Again.

"Okay, what the hell's wrong?"

Paige closed her eyes. '_Damn him and his investigator tendencies_'.

"Nothing's wrong, I'm just running late", she faked a sweet tone, hoping he would let it go. This time, when she turned around and cast a look at him she could clearly see he wasn't buying it.

He was sitting in the middle of the bed, knees bent and arms resting on them, eyeing her expectantly.

"Paige." His tone didn't leave any doubt: he was determined to drag the truth out of her and wouldn't give up so easily. She sighed, knowing full well the only way to get out of this was to fake. Even though she _hated_ doing it with him.

Her feet slapped against the cold floor as she walked back to the bed. She crawled back to him and kneeled between his thighs, taking his face in her hands.

Mike rested his hands on her hips and his chin brushed against her chest as he bore his blue eyes into hers: she leant down and sealed his lips with a slow, morbid kiss.

"Seriously, I'm fine, Mike." Technically, she wasn't lying: she really was fine. _Physically_.

He held onto her wrists when she started to pull away and demanded her attention.

"Then come back to bed." His tone was soft and welcoming and Paige felt her guts twisting at the warmness his hands were spreading on her skin.

Prying herself from him, she smiled tightly and walked backwards to the door.

"I'm running late, us girls need hours to get ready..."

Paige turned around and quickly made her exit, before he could stop her again. She ignored his voice when he called after her once more.

***I'm not even sure it's a word, so take it as a creative writing exception ;)**


	2. Between the devil and the deep sea

**Enjoy if you can :) ****I apologize for my grammar mistakes and to those who will find this boring. I'm kinda losing my "muse".**

**- xo, Mel**

* * *

><p>When Paige came back from her fake meeting at the headquarters - she had spent 4 hours driving around the suburbs, in order not to accidentally meet Mike who, however, had called her more than 5 times already - it was past midday.<p>

That morning, she hadn't been able to avoid his inquisitorial glances when he had seen her coming down for breakfast even though she had escaped so early from his room: he had found him in the kitchen with his blondie, stuck up bitch of a boss from DC – what was her name again? Jenna? Jean?

She had felt some kind of tension entering the kitchen: Mike had probably been about to start talking serious business, but had caught himself when he had seen her coming down the stairs.

They were hiding something.

Paige had tried to be nice – she really had – but her consistent staring at Mike like a delicious piece of meat really gave onto her nerves. Then she had mentioned shutting down the operation and Paige had really lost it. She had to get out.

And so she drove.

She came through the door expecting to find the house empty, but her hopes had been crushed when she had heard Mike's deep voice echoing in the kitchen. She tiptoed silently to the stairs, hoping he wouldn't catch her sneaking in. As soon as she reached the first step, she caught a glimpse of him: he was shield by the counter and he had his back at her. He was wearing a black polo sweater with the sleeves rolled up; his hair were dishevelled, unstyled, messy, like he had been running his hand through it all morning. She could feel her mouth starting to water: she didn't know what it was, but she loved that look on him. She always wanted to run her fingers through his hair, pull at the stubborn strands sticking in every direction.

That sweater might have just become her new favourite, because it looked damn great on him. It made his broad shoulders look wider and she could clearly see the outline of his back muscles thanks to the way the material clung to his skin as he moved around the kitchen.

He was on the phone and he was moving his free hand in a proud and haughty, yet agitated and impetuous manner: he had to be talking to somebody back in DC, judging by the tone he was using.

Paige quickly rushed to the part of the stairs invisible from the kitchen as he turned around and kept reasoning animatedly. She couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but it sounded quite important.

She attached herself to the wall and cautiously peaked from the corner: he had turned his back again and was now leaning on the kitchen table where – she had only just noticed – laid a map and a pile of papers and labelled folders.

She took this as an opportunity to rush up the stairs and into her room. She tried not to make any noise, but by the time she was safely leaning her back against the door of her room, she remembered that the last step was half broken – thanks to a drunk DJ who had helped an even drunker Paul carry some sort of stolen huge piece of "football heirloom" after the Super bowl celebration, years before.

Even though she had taken her shoes off, there was a high chance Mike had heard the step squeak and realised she was back. _'It could have been anyone, though.'_

She waited for the sound of his feet getting close, but nothing could be heard. _'Thank God'_

Letting out a breath she didn't realise had been holding, she let herself fall back on her bed. The quietness and silence of her room allowed her to close her eyes and recollect her thoughts.

Being out all morning, away from him and from that K-bomb she had heard escaping from his lips had helped a lot. It had given her the opportunity of slowing things down and take her time to think rationally. Only, she hadn't been able to do that, since she kept replaying that phrase over and over again.

'_I hope my future kids'll sound like you when they laugh_'

'_I hope my future kids'll sound like you when they laugh_'

'_I hope my future kids'll sound like you when they laugh_'

My future kids. Kids. How was she supposed to go slow and enjoy this if he was already thinking about their kids?

Hold on.

'_My future kids_'. He said _my_, not _our_. _My_.

Paige's eyes shot open and she found herself staring at the ceiling, feeling suddenly uneasy and insecure. Unless she had been taught wrong since elementary school, that meant she was not involved into the making of those hypothetical future kids. _'Does that mean...'_

She hadn't thought about it that morning, too shocked by his comment. But now that she realised it, he gave him the answer she was waiting for without even having to have _the talk._

He had implied that this was just a passing phase of his life, a random series of hook ups with a roommate he was never going to see again – unless they crossed roads because of their jobs.

This wasn't serious and obviously had no future. Hence, no _'__our__ future kids'_.

She let out a sigh, but she couldn't quite figure out if she had made it out of relief or anxiety.

'_Snap out of it, P. What is it with this guy that turns you in such a soft wimp?'_

Paige sat up and stared ahead of her, resting her hand on her chest. She felt her heart: it was beating fast and rhythmically, like she was suffering from palpitations. It had been happening a lot, lately.

The first time it happened had been when Mike got stabbed by Jangles and it had brought her to use a bag to stop herself from hyperventilating. It never happened again, until he made his comeback with a loud bang: he had what they thought were Caza newbies torture him and almost suffocate him.

She had kept it under control, though. When Charlie had come to pick her up to go over the crime scene, she had told her he was fine. So, by the time they arrived there, she had regained her cool and relaxed personality.

The last time had been when they had finally given into their attraction: she had been waiting for him to come up behind her and take off her towel, but when she sensed he wasn't going to come in unless he was invited. So, she let it drop herself. That had sent her heart into a drummy race: her beats had kept speeding up until he had closed the door and used his hands to soothe them.

Now, it was happening again and she couldn't wrap her head around why.

She took a couple of full and deep breaths, flexing her hand and applying pressure to the pulse on her wrist. Her eyes inevitably fell on the photo on her bedside table: there she was, with her Graceland family, smiling brightly into the camera.

However, her stare rested on the guy next to her: it had been taken during his first days there, so he still had that innocent and fresh air surrounding him; his hair were longer and kept back by his sunglasses; he was wearing a gray tanktop and light jeans that hugged his legs nicely, showing his muscled thighs and calves. What struck her interest, though, was his face. She found herself hypnotized by the way he smiled into the camera in such a carefree manner and she unconsciously smiled back at the picture.

She reached out and took the frame in her hands. Her fingers brushed against his face and suddenly all the memories she shared with him came up into her mind at a fast speed. The jokes, the games, the silly stuff they did with Johnny, their serious talks. Every memory. Even the sad feeling she had experienced after they had taken him to the airport to say goodbye: she had stood into his room and noticed how empty and silent it felt without him there. It just hadn't felt right.

Then _she knew_.

She let the frame fall onto her bed with a _puff_ and slammed the door open. She raced down the stairs as if it were a matter of life and jumped the last few steps that connected the entrance to the kitchen, stopping right there.

He had moved the map on the counter to open it wide and he was looking down at it, tracing his finger in various directions. He was murmuring non-sense stuff, probably talking to himself, and hadn't even realised she was standing there until she made her presence known with the most embarrassing sentence she had ever said in her entire life. It made him freeze on the spot and slowly raise his head in her direction. His jaw fell down. One of his hand was resting on his stomach and the other was still in the air, where he was moving it, his mouth agape. The shock she could see in his eyes and on his face made her question the impulsive choice she had just made.

"_I want to have your kids_"

* * *

><p>Paige had done many terrible things since she had arrived at Graceland, but she had never regretted them. They took her where she was and made her who she was. She did them for good causes, not just for fun.<p>

This was the first time she had ever regretted following her guts.

"_I want to have your kids_"

She didn't know what demon had suddenly possessed her to make her say such stupid words. All she had wanted to say was '_can we talk?_', but _that_ had come out instead.

It felt like an eternity since those words had left her mouth and Mike was still looking at her in shock. His mouth had gone dry and he couldn't bring himself to speak. He tried to, but the only sound he had been able to make was something close to a gag.

Realising he was standing there, clearly making a fool of himself, he closed his mouth and cleared his throat. Under Paige's stare, his saliva felt like glue when he tried to swallow and he felt his face getting hotter.

He quickly broke their stare and looked down. He couldn't believe that had just happened. He would have expected anything to come out of her mouth, curses and barbarism of any kind. But _that_?

Paige felt the burning sensation of tears welling up into her eyes – caused both by the humiliation and his sudden loss of speaking abilities - and took two steps closer, ready to confront him: was it that much of a coward so not to tell her she was simply one of his insignificant conquests?

"Hey! Look at me, you lying son of a bi-", her words died in her throat as she realised why he hadn't dared to speak up after the initial shock.

As she neared the counter, she saw two heads poking from behind the wall separating the kitchen from the living room: Johnny and Bates were looking at her as if she had another head growing out of her neck.

Mimicking Mike, she swallowed hard and tore her eyes from them, looking outside the French doors. An awkward silence fell upon them.

'_You're such an idiot, P!_' She should have checked that he was alone, before bringing it up. It was hard enough to talk about that in private, she didn't need two pairs of indiscrete ears eavesdropping.

Johnny, as always, was the first to break the silence. She had expected him to help her overcome the thick tension with a joke, but no. He decided to be his usual self and stick his nose into her stuff.

He furrowed his eyebrows and pointed at her.

"Did you just say you want..."

Mike was turning every shade of red – he tried to mask his embarrassment by grabbing his bottle of water and gulping down a big sip.

Johnny used his thumb to point at him "... to have _his kids_?"

Paige squeezed her fists and turned her face to the other side, as not to see their faces, and ignored the question. She had to turn around soon though, since Mike started coughing at the sound of _that word_; water dripping out of his mouth and onto his sweatshirt.

_Kids._

"Easy there, champ!" Johnny chuckled, patting him hard on his back to help him breathe, amused by the situation.

Wayne, at his side, looked back and forth between him and Paige.

He pursued his lips and slowly drew out the question he'd been meaning to ask since Mike had made his comeback to Graceland.

"Are you two... fucking each other's brains out?"

Mike flinched and squeezed his eyes, throwing his water bottle on the counter with a _thud_. Paige opened her mouth in disbelief and burned Zelanski with her stare. Johnny snickered, draping his forearm over his mouth to hide his laugh.

"What?" The brawny DEA agent asked, looking back at his friend. "Why're you laughing? It's a legit question!"

"Could've been more gentle though", he commented, unable to hide a grin. Waye rolled his eyes.

"You're one to talk, you always say the most inappropriate things."

"But you ain't me, Bates. You can't pull it off, dude."

"Don't call me that, don't call me Bates!"

"Or what?"

Paige rolled her eyes, laying a hand on her forehead and turning her back to them. _'This just keeps getting better and better'._

"Or I'll make you pay!"

"Oh really? Bring it on..." Johnny mimicked a jerking motion and grinned evilly. "... Bates!"

"Oh God." Mike groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He could feel a bad headache coming.

Zelanski's eyes widened and stripped off his jacket, ready to attack him.

"You're so de-"

"ENOUGH!" Mike screamed, his eyes on fire and his ears fuming. The two fighting agents stopped dead in their tracks and turned to him, guiltily.

This was insane: Carlito Solano was out there, killing people and making girls disappear; the Bureau was starting to doubt his skills and wanted to shut down his whole operation; he only had a week left to prove them wrong and avoid the risk of losing his job and to top it all off, Jessica's presence only added more pressure, both professionally and personally. If she was there, things were definitely not looking good for him back at DC, and here at Graceland? She could jeopardize his relationship with Paige.

_Paige_. How he hated her right now.

Things were going good, he had both Johnny and Bat-, _'Zelanski' -_he reminded himself-, under control. But then she had come out with _that _and he had lost their attention.

He didn't need this. He needed them focused 100% on their goal, or everything could have been gone by bedtime.

"Stop! Both of you! We need to get to work. WORK. D'you need me to spell that for you?"

Wayne let go of Johnny's collar and held his head down. They regained their composure and got closer to the map, shaking their heads no.

"Sorry", they mumbled at the same time and Mike tried to calm himself down. He breathed deeply.

"Good." Not fully believing them, he slammed his hand down on the counter and put on a cold stare: he wanted to make sure they understood that he was being serious and that this wasn't a joke. They were seriously risking their lives here. If something went wrong, they could lose not only their careers and burn Graceland, but they could fall straight into the ground. The Solano's were merciless, manipulative, they could and would do anything to keep their business – and their money – safe; even killing off each one of them. One by one. That's why they needed to keep their minds set: no mistakes were allowed; it could finally be the last battle before they proceeded to shut down the Caza cartel. And they had to win it.

It was all or nothing.

Bending over the counter and leaning on his elbows, he began listening carefully to Johnny's explanation: the plan was perfect. Tonight they would finally put Solano down. He was going to be a rockstar again.

As Zelanski interjected, grabbing a marker and circling on the map the different spots where they would put blocks -was one of the Solano's to escape-, Mike felt a light touch on his lower back.

"Mike?"

Both the agents watched seriously, but curiously as he barely glanced back at the blonde standing there.

"Yeah?"

Paige cringed at the coldness in his voice. When she had decided to come down and talk to him, she hadn't expected him to be this mad at her. Yes, she had run away in the morning and avoided him when she had come back. But he was Mike: he had never got so mad at her at the point of being rude.

"We need to talk", she glanced at Johnny and Wade, burning them with her stare, and sighed when the man she was talking to didn't even made a move to look at her.

"I'm busy, Paige. Later", he replied, resuming the discussing of the most important operation of his career.

She looked at the back of his neck, disappointed, and retreated her hand.

"So, you're ganna come this way with Carlito, right?"

Johnny saw a slight grimance of disappointment flashing on her face, as she looked down, preparing to leave. He turned his attention back to the map, when he realised Mike was addressing him.

"...right. We'll take the main road as not to waste time, in case cops see us and Zelanski..."

"...I'll be stationed with the team and the swats at the service door of the bus station, ready to move in at the signal..."

"...that Jess and I will give you as soon as Charlie and Briggs reach th-"

Suddenly, at the sound of that blondie's name, Paige wrapped her fingers around Mike's bicep and squeezed hard, yanking him back to look at her. She got into his face, defiantly. He glanced down at her hand and then reciprocated her stare, just as harshly.

"I said we need to talk", she angrily hissed at him.

"And I said later", Mike challenged her. His eyes stormy.

"No." She insisted and tightened her grip on his arm, pushing herself onto him. "We're going to talk now, Mike."

"Let me go." He stated, calmly.

"My room. Right now!"

Abruptly, Mike took a hold of her wrist and forcefully pried her hand from his arm. She gasped, taken aback, and looked from his grip on her limb to his face. Speechless.

He held her wrist in the air. Johnny and Wayne awkwardly assisting at the scene in the background.

Mike got so close to her face that she could feel his warm breath tickling her lips: he had never been this rude to her. But, despite his unexpected outburst, she couldn't deny he was controlling his force. It was a firm grip, but she could feel the tenderness he always reserved to her.

_Physically_.

Because he was being an asshole, right now. His blue eyes were so dark; she couldn't quite say if that was a consequence of the embarrassment she had caused him before or the insistence she had just shown to him.

"Later."He growled in her face, gritting his teeth. His jaw clenched tight.

When Paige didn't move, he used his grip to push her out of the way. Gently, but eagerly.

She sent him a hard stare, as she made two steps backwards.

"It's an order, Agent Arkin." He held her stare, solemnly, as he watched her nearing the stairs.

Paige turned her back to him and stomped away angrily, punching the wall on the way out; a few pictures sticked to the kitchen board fell down on the floor. She glanced back at him and addressed him a fake smile.

"You're not my boss." She spat, bitterly, and stormed off.

Mike followed her silhouette until she was out of sight. He was left with a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach: he hated fighting in general, but with Paige? He couldn't stand it. It made him furious and sad at the same time.

But sometimes, you have to pay a little extra to get what you want. If catching Solano required having Paige to swear at him like a truck driver and pin up his voodoo doll a while, he'd more than likely take it. '_It's for a good cause'_.

He'd talk to her later and he'd make it up to her somehow. Hopefully, it would include a great amount of _activity _from both parts.

Besides, she had run off that morning and made that scene in the kitchen before.

She owed him.


	3. Parachutes out of everything broken

**Hello **** Thanks to all those who reviewed, favorited or even read this, it really means a lot to me. As for now, there's only one chapter left. But I'm considering on making this longer, if you guys don't get bored lol**

**- xo, Mel**

Mike took a deep breath when he saw a shadow pass by behind the glass of the door. He considered tip toeing back to his room and postpone the conversation to when he'd be back. After all, he was late already. _'It's just 5PM. Nice try, Warren'. _He mentally pinched himself and knocked on the door, waiting for a faint "_come in_" that came two seconds after. Slowly pushing the door, he cautiously stepped in and came face to face with the sight of her: she was standing right in the centre of the room –he should have known she'd be waiting for him-, arms crossed.

"About time you decided to stop moping and come in", Paige spat out.

Mike flinched: she was mad and her tone did not bode well. He could sense a fight was about to come. He braced himself and gathered up the courage to face the problem with her. The conversation he had had just a hour before with Jessica was on repeat in his mind.

"_I've been going through our resources and we need everyone we can get taking down this bus line. We're getting additional support already from LAPD, so... I'm going to pull the cover team from the sex trafficking off to help with us."_

"_Jess you can't do that_."

Hopefully, she would understand it wasn't on him, that this wasn't his decision. That if he could, he'd follow his heart instantly.

"_We need the team. The buses are priority."_

He sighed deeply and shut the door resignedly. The sooner he did this, the better.

"I wasn't moping, I was just... reflecting. Didn't know if it'd be worth-"

He caught himself mid sentence and his own eyes widened: '_Shit_', it came out the wrong way. He saw fire flashing through her eyes; she uncrossed her arms and took a step forward.

"Excuse me?!"

"I, no. That's not what I meant, I- Jesus, it came out wrong!" Holding his hands up, he pulled himself back together and looked at her straight in the eyes.

"I let you in so you could fix this, not to make it worse, Mike. But as for now, you're really wasting your chance!" She hissed, puffing a strand of hair out of her face. He could clearly see the annoyance building up in her small body. Their relationship was already strained enough for God knew why and now he was supposed to be the one to break the news to her: he knew she was going to go nuts on him.

"I'm not here for that, it'll have to wait"

Paige uncrossed her arms and moved past him, hitting his shoulder on her way to the bed. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for what was about to come.

The bed shifted under her fair weight, as she went back to her papers and notes – he could clearly see maps of the city and the Solano's documentation. "_Great, just great_", he thought.

"If you're not here to say sorry, you know your way out." Paige spat out, without even looking at him.

"I am, but not for what you think." He sat on the edge of her vanity, leaning back onto his arms, as if he needed some kind of support to drop the news.

"I've just found out we won't have a team for your trafficking arrest."

Mike closed his eyes. He couldn't look at her: he couldn't look at the pain he was providing her; since this all started, she had been there for him, supporting him when all the others had done nothing but following his orders reluctantly. Comforting him. She had been there with him during those sleepless nights he had spent working on this case: those few times he had glanced back at her from his computer, all he had seen was her determination to save those girls by working with him. By his side.

Now, he was crushing her hopes and throwing all her work out of the window.

"What? This is my only shot!"

Paige stared at him in disbelief: she was this close to solve this case, which was an important part of the Solano Cartel. Why would they miss this chance to bring them down? This was big. Even bigger than the drugs. These were girls that were disappearing into thin air.

"I know. Look, it's just... we're pulling three different agencies in two countries. Now Local PD, Jessica's taking control of this whole thing-"

_Jessica. _She had hated that woman from the very first moment she had seen her. The reason had been unknown to her at first, but now everything was much clearer: the way her name left his lips... there were no doubts about it.

Paige smiled bitterly.

"Okay, that's what this is about. Jessica. How long have you been screwing her?"

By the end of her question, her eyes were fixed on him, searching for any sign of denial. She wanted to be wrong, she really did. But deep down – and from the way he avoided her stare- she knew she was right.

"Paige, she's my boss..." Mike was now looking down at his feet, shifting them uncomfortably.

"No, how long?"

"I don't think you-" She gripped the pen in her hand tightly, trying not to make a scene. She'd always been professional, keeping her personal life separated from her job, but this was really affecting her. It was affecting her operation, it was keeping her from saving those girls, from keeping her promise.

The way things were turning out just proved how this had been a mistake from the very start.

"Am I wrong?"

Mike breathed through his nose, finally raising his head to look at her. He straightened his back: she already knew the answer, what was the point in keeping on denying it? She was smart, intelligent – that's why he liked her so much. But right now, he wished she wasn't.

"No." He saw her stilling on the bed, nodding to herself and shaking her head. He mentally cursed himself for ever getting involved with Jess. '_She's brought nothing but troubles here_'.

"That's not why she pulled your team-"

"How long?" She wasn't going to let this go. If the circumstances had been normal, she could have done that. Maybe.

"Look, it's just a passing office romance. A fling, between co-workers!"

Okay. That hurt. She was trying to keep her emotions under control, although Paige couldn't help but feel affected by his words: was that what she was to him too? A fling? Had her guess been right before?

"You seem to be good at this."

"You're more than just a passing fling..."

Mike's words came out warm and soft. She looked up at him, but all she could see were her girls. She was losing the opportunity of saving them because of a boy. A stupid, arrogant boy.

'_Look what you've become, P.' _The voice in her head kept reminding her of what an incredible agent she was and of how she was wasting her talent by getting involved with _that boy_.

Had she not cared for him, she'd still have her team. She'd still have a shot at this.

Paige saw the hopeful look into his eyes: he was waiting for his words to sink in and make her understand that this wasn't his fault; that he was on her side. That he'd do anything to prove that to her.

_Anything._

That's exactly what he would have to do: he'd have to push himself to the very limit and help her out. Just like she had when everybody had been against him, resulting in them thinking she had been '_banging the rat' _all along. Her dignity had been bruised back then, it was his turn now.

"Get me my team back, Mike."

Caught off guard, he opened his arms and lifted himself up to get closer to her.

"I already tried-"

"Then you need to convince her."

Paige stood up and stopped him before he could reach her spot on the bed. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"What do you mean, convince her?"

"I mean... you need to do whatever you have to do." She let her hand touch his abdomen and slide towards his chest: her eyes followed the path her fingers made, not wanting to make his blue eyes change her mind. If she had said that with him staring at her, she wouldn't have been able to keep going on with her request and those girls would be screwed.

Her palm vibrated against the faint laugh he made, not believing she'd actually be serious about this.

"Uh, okay. Okay. I want you to think about what you've just said to me."

"I have."

Mike froze on his way to the door. He turned to look at her, his face all shades of confusion. Was she really asking him to _do that_? To give up what they had and sleep with Jess so she could have her team?

"You know how much these girls mean to me. You've done it once, you can do it again."

A bullet through the middle of his chest would have been less painful. He didn't know what hurt more: the fact that she was suggesting he'd do that at his own benefit, or that she was simply rubbing in his face what he hadn't been able to admit to himself.

He had took the easy way out to be successful: sleeping with his boss.

Paige turned her back to him and he got that as a hint to leave her alone. He silently made his way out of her room: when the door was shut behind his back, he looked at the shadow he could still see through the blurred glass. He watched as she lifted her arm to her head: he imagined her hand wiping what he thought – and hoped- was a tear and he felt his heart tighten.

"_You've done it once, you can do it again_."

Mike now knew why that had burnt so much.

He had disappointed her.

* * *

><p>Paige swirled the wine and watched how the little bubbles clung to the sides of the glass.<p>

She was sitting on the counter in the kitchen, her wet hair pulled up in a messy bun: she'd just had a relaxing shower, washing away all the stress and the events of that day. She had thrown on the first thing she'd found in her room and –much to her bitter surprise- it had been one of Mike's shirts. She hadn't bothered to take it off, though. She liked it.

As she curled her bare legs under herself, she felt DJ chuckle at her side: he was leaning on the counter, already dizzy from what was his 5th glass of the night: he had chosen to end the day with some whiskey, whereas she had been wiser and went for some white wine. She looked at him and a smile spread on her lips.

"What are you laughing at?"

DJ pointed to her chest, urging her to check the buttons she had left undone.

"Could you and the kiddo be more obvious?" He slurred out. Paige's face went white: there, on the top of her right breast, was a newly fresh-made, big, red love bite. She quickly pulled the shirt and secured it with her hand, shushing her friend. DJ chuckled once more, titling his glass in her direction and observing the yellowish substance inside before taking a long sip.

"I won't tell", he mumbled. "Everyboooody knows you want hisss kids anyway, so."

Paige coughed, choking on her wine; she wiped her mouth in disbelief: damn Johnny and his big mouth.

Giving into the situation, she decided to take advantage of DJ's drunken state and take some of her thoughts off her chest. She could really use a friend right now and, knowing that he wouldn't probably remember a thing by the time he'd wake up the next morning, she planned to let herself come clean.

They were the only ones in the house, so there was no risk she'd end up in an awkward situation like the one in the morning.

"Oh well..." she whispered, looking down at her glass and running her index on the edge. "...there's nothing to tell anyway. It's nothing important, just fun..."

DJ laid his head down, the surface of the counter feeling cool and relaxing against his cheek. He closed his eyes and snorted.

"Please, the rat's got it hard for you, babe." He mumbled, licking his dry lips. Paige shook her head and reached out to wipe some drool off his chin.

"I don't think so", she looked at the sticky substance on her fingers and felt her stomach churn; laying back onto the counter, she reached out for some tissues and wiped them. Dj patted her leg, half awake and half asleep.

"I don't think he'll be able to get it up with her after being with you. She's-" He hiccupped and rubbed his nose. "She's too frigid, even for him."

Paige chuckled, pulling her knees to her chest and leaning her cheek onto them, looking at him.

"I'm afraid, Dale."

DJ opened his eyes: they were glossy and watery, but she knew he was listening to her. She'd got his full attention now: she had never admitted of being scared before.

She nodded to his silent question. '_Of what?'_

"I'm afraid she's ganna steal him away. She's got something I don't. She can help him make it to the director's chair..." she smiled at him, trying to sound light and cool. He was drunk, but he wasn't stupid.

He stared at her with a blank expression and clicked his tongue, trying to make that dry feeling in his mouth to go away. He pushed himself slowly off the counter and stumbled forward: he stood in front of her and stole her glass away.

Paige looked at him, confused.

All of a sudden, he pinched her cheek and gave her a drunken smile.

"You've got something too, silly." DJ gulped down the rest of her wine and passed the empty glass to her. "His heart." He pointed out, making his way out of the kitchen and catching himself on the steps.

Paige watched him stumble a few times on the stairs, half fearing for him falling down and half reflecting on his words. He hadn't said much, as usual, but the few things he had said left her with a newfound doubt in her mind.

'_He was just drunk',_ she told herself.

She was about to follow his lead and go to bed when the door sprung open and an overly pissed Mike irrupted in. She heard the Buddha statue Briggs had put next to the door fall down with a _thud _and many voices calling after him: the first one to appear behind the wall was Mike himself, followed by Johnny and Briggs who were trying to take a hold of him; Zelanski came in soon after, stopping a few steps back to watch the scene; Charlie rushed to Paul's side to help him.

Finally, she saw a blonde head coming in, circling her roommates and looking straight at Mike.

"You're out of control! Can't you see that?!" She hissed at him. He didn't reply, but simply rolled his eyes. Charlie squeezed his shoulder and nodded when he glanced at her; Johnny did the same.

"It ain't no good doing this right now, Mikey."

As everybody bomb rushed him, Paige jumped off the counter and got out of the kitchen, making her presence known. At least, to the only one who was watching: Zelanski. Arms crossed, she went up to him and looked at the scene sceptically: Mike was struggling to free himself from Johnny and Paul's grip and wasn't listening to anybody, even though they kept yelling at his face.

"What happened?"

Wayne rubbed his neck and titled his head towards Mike, standing next to her.

"He's gone crazy. We had it all set when Carlito decided to change plans; he took a U turn and went back to the pub with Johnny. We tried to take the evidence, but it all blew up in front of us. We lost everything, there's nothing to work on anymore."

Paige looked at him, shocked. She couldn't believe it. She _refused_ to believe it. After all that work.

"I can't believe it. He got away with it? Solano's free?"

Zelanski nodded.

"Mike thinks one of ours tipped Carlito off. He wants to investigate all those who were there; they've been trying to stop him and make him reason but..." he nodded in his direction, making his point.

Paige understood where he came from: he had been working on that case for weeks, he had spent nights on figuring out how to put him down and now everything was gone. If there had been a leak, somebody had to pay. But she understood where all the others came from too: Mike was an incredible agent, if there was anybody that could find the responsible, that was him; but he had to be in his right mind, not like this.

"Jessica's right, you need to calm down and slow down or you'll fuck everything up, just like tonight!" Paul's voice echoed over the others.

It all happened so fast: Johnny was pushed back on his ass and fell down near the couch; Charlie lost her balance and almost fell down as Mike grabbed Briggs by the collar of his leather jacket and got into his face; Jessica watched helplessly and shocked.

There was a moment of silence. Everybody in the room tried to guess his next move: all they could see was the hard stare the two were sharing; no words were exchanged, but there was some sort of fire going on between them.

Zelanski was the first to rush over to them. He grabbed a hold of Mike's arm and Paul's shoulder.

"Hey Mike, c'mon dude. Let him go, we've all had a rough night..." he tried to talk him into releasing the older agent. To avoid more commotion.

Paige watched as his hands eased his jacket out and he took a few steps back, still burning him with his stare. All the eyes were on him as he made his way out of the room and into the kitchen.

"Agent Warren!" Jessica called after him. She was about to follow him, but Charlie held her back, shaking her head no.

Paige joined them, helping Johnny up. She rubbed his shoulder, without taking her eyes off of Mike: he opened the first cabinet on the left and grabbed the bottle of whiskey Jakes had been drinking from before.

"You okay?"

"Yeah.."

She nodded absentmindedly, as Mike turned his back to them, brought the bottle to his lips and downed a huge gulp.

"Agent Warren!"

Still dressed into his FBI uniform -minus the bulletproof vest-, he leaned with his hand on the cabinet, gripping the handle so tight that his knuckles turned white, and took another sip. He was about to lose it.

**Paige saw that**.

Without thinking twice, she ignored the stares she got from the others and rushed to him.

She sneaked her arms around his torso slowly, feeling his muscles stiffening and then relaxing against her touch; her front adhered to his back, so to hold him tightly; she got on her tiptoes to touch her lips to his neck. He leaned into her touch, as they worked onto his pulse: humming a song unknown to him, she rocked him slightly side to side.

All their problems fell back and forgotten as she calmed him down. All the problems, the losses and the failures of the day.

He took another sip, finishing it off. '_Thank God Jakes didn't leave that much'_, she thought.

Meanwhile, the rest of the house watched the scene, astonished: they had been trying to calm him down and make him think rationally for hours now and all they had got back had been either silence or bad looks. He wouldn't even let them touch him, nor get near him. Nobody had been able to do that without earning a bad reaction from the agent: not even Jessica, who was now watching silently, motionless. Charlie and Paul shared a look, knowing full well that everything would change after this. For better and for worse. Zelanski watched from behind them, arms crossed.

Finally, Johnny voiced what everybody in the room was thinking.

"How did she do that?!" He exclaimed, touching the sore spot he now had for even trying to get close to him. Not that he wanted to be _that _close to him, but it pissed him off how easily she had been able to quiet him down.

Mike slammed the empty bottle into the sink and lowered his head. He was breathing hard, trying to keep his anger under control.

**Paige felt that.**

She tightened her grip on him and kissed her way down to his clavicle, hiding her face in the crook of his neck and starting to roam her hands all over to soothe him. She felt him relax under her touch and his breath slowed down, signalling she was getting the desired effect.

Suddenly, he caught one of her hands and moved it from its place onto his stomach right over his heart. He opened it wide and laid his on top of hers, grasping it and inhaling deeply.

Paige smiled against his shoulder and reached up to kiss the side of his jaw: he leaned into her touch, laying the side of his head on top of hers.

It didn't matter if he had slept with Jess. It didn't matter if she didn't have her team. It didn't matter if he would go back to DC.

In that moment, everything slipped away.


	4. Heart race

**Hello! This would be the last chapter, but considering your reception, I could make it into a longer fic (I already have an idea). Let me know if that'd be okay with you.**

**Before you go on reading, I have a few things to say: THANK YOU to all those who reviewed, favorited and read this. It really is such a pleasure to know that you appreciate/ed this story **

**Secondly, I want to precise that this is a Paige x Mike fic indeed, so it'll be all from their point of views. Although, I plan on giving space to other characters as well (as you've seen in this chapter and also the past ones). **

**Okay, enjoy!**

**- xo, Mel**

Charlie had always been the mama bear of the house: she felt that she had the huge and severe job of keeping the house – and the family – together, because if she didn't, who else would? Briggs? No.

He might have been the leader; Graceland might have been his castle, but it was her job to make everybody stay together. She was always the one to find a way to make Johnny and Dale give up on their stupid fights and go back to either "ignore" or pick on each other, restabilising the natural order of the things; she was always the one to organize special family nights (other than the infamous sauce night, of course) and she was always the one they all turned to when they needed an advice or somebody to talk to: she knew how to keep a secret.

That is why she felt the obligation of saying a word or two to the man of the night: Mike.

He was out on the porch, looking at the moon reflecting its lightness on the ocean, deep in thoughts. He was so lost into them that he didn't even notice the French door slide open behind him, signalling someone had decided to join him in that moment of reflection.

Charlie put her hands in the pockets of her hoodie and breathed into the night air. She nudged him in the side.

"Yo, still hot?"

Mike glanced at her and smiled tightly, going back to examining the dark blue of the ocean. Shrugging, he licked his lips.

"Nah, not really. Kind of cooled down, actually."

"Yeah... I can see that." She paused, focusing on the moon. She had tested the waters: he was calm enough to have a conversation with; she might as well take advantage of this... strange vulnerability of his and push him to spill the deeds. "...everybody can."

Mike looked at her, expressionless, but she could see it in his eyes: he knew what she was talking about. She grinned, going back to stare ahead of her. He did the same.

"That obvious, uh?"

"Pretty much, yeah. It wasn't that much of a surprise, though. We all saw that coming, it was about time. I thought I'd be old and wrinkly when you'd finally decide to step up, Mikey."

He let out a faint chuckle, looking down at his feet, and put his hands into his pockets. He knew this day would come, but he didn't think it'd be this easy to talk about it with somebody in the house. He should have figured Charlie would be the best to talk first, though. He had always had a better relationship with her.

"I mean, man... you were completely out of control there! And all she had to do was touch you? And you practically melted? So yeah, that obvious."

Mike shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, well... she has that effect on me. She does a lot of things to me, she just doesn't know that yet."

Charlie looked at him. This time, she didn't just throw a brief glance or smile his way, she actually took her time to scan his features: the young rookie had disappeared into a man of many complex, but something kept him on looking like an innocent boy. Maybe it was the spark of hope and goodness into his eyes, or maybe the fact that his feelings were still a taboo into his overactive and hyper thinking mind.

"D'you tell her?"

When he looked at her, in a mix of surprise, shock and fake confusion, she closed her eyes and titled her head to the side, shrugging him off, to point the obviousness of the situation.

"You have it written on your face, Mikey."

Mike's lips pressed together into a thin line, as he breathed through his nose and nodded; his eyes fixed on the horizon. Charlie was right: he had been obsessed with Paige since the first time he had seen her; he had tried to push aside that desperate need of her, first by building some sort of ruinous relationship with Abby, then by getting on the first plane to go to DC – he didn't have to leave so soon, but he thought that was the best thing to do, for both of them. Especially for him: he didn't know if he'd been able to stand one more month next to her and still keep everything inside of him.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Chuck."

Charlie frowned, turning around and leaning back on the railing, to look him in the face. His eyes seemed glued to the horizon, though.

"Why's that?"

"I, she... it's- it's just complicated, okay? It's not the same... for her."

It took an entire moment of silence to let those words sink in and actually make sense into her mind. She was about to laugh out loud, when she realised that he hadn't been there for months. That he hadn't spoken to any of them, except Paul, for months. That he hadn't known anything at all about what had been going in their lives, and at Graceland, for months.

Pursuing her lips, she made a puckering sound and pushed herself off the railing, getting close to him. He finally looked down at her, curiously.

"She hasn't been nor hooked up with anybody since you left..."

She leaned up to his ear and he leaned down, as if sharing the most important secret.

"... she cried, Mike. Paige cried."

When Charlie took a step back, she was finally able to meet Mike's gaze and much to her delight, there was realisation into his eyes. She winked at him and moved to go back inside. She patted him on the shoulder.

"Go get her, tiger."

She heard him chuckle behind as she went back inside. Before she could close the French door, though, he called her name.

"Charlie... thank you." He was looking at her with such affection, Charlie wondered how long it had been since he had had somebody comforting him, other than Paige. She had always had a soft spot for Mikey, he reminded her of the exciting innocence they all had had when they had started doing this job.

Only, Mike had been able to keep it treasured inside of him – if not fully, at least a small part of it.

* * *

><p>Mike stood by the side of the door: she was sitting at her desk, so concentrated on what she was doing that she hadn't even heard the last step of the stairs creak and felt his presence behind her. So, when he decided to make himself known and knocked on the door jamb, she jumped slightly and turned around in surprise.<p>

"Hey... can I come in?"

The look in her doe emerald eyes, however, was so spontaneous, yet so captivating that for a moment he stopped breathing: Charlie's words had opened his eyes to the point that he now saw her in a different light. All its uncertainties were gone: it was now or never.

Paige gave him a small smile and got up, titling her side and resting a hand on her hip.

"That depends... are you going to go all Hulk on me?" She joked, a flash of malice in her eyes.

Mike lowered his head and chuckled, putting his hands into his pockets and walking up to her.

"About that..." he circled her and she followed him, turning around slightly. They stood face to face and he took one of his hands out to rest on the hand on her hip.

He slowly and gently took it, looking at it and rubbing the back with his thumb. When he looked up, Paige felt the air being sucked out of her lungs and her mouth went dry: his stare was strong, full of passion, full of emotions she had only now started to feel too. Emotions she had never known existed until he had come into her life, like a storm.

"...thank you."

None of them seemed able to break their stare: everything around them vanished. They were back into their bubble, where nothing else mattered but them.

Paige was about to throw herself at him and kiss him, right there, when he decided to burst it and let the reality of the situation come back into the picture.

"I believe I owe you a long talk. And an apology." He said, firmly, letting go of her hand and taking a step back: he couldn't touch her, he couldn't be that close to her, or he wouldn't have been able to talk. He would've just get lost into her and right now he couldn't; what he needed to do was make sure they both knew where they stood at this point of their relationship.

"Mike..." Paige whispered.

"No." He knew what she was going to say: '_another time', _but he was tired of waiting. They had had enough time.

"I'm sorry, Paige. This morning, I was an asshole to you when I had no reason to. And you're just so... you're just- you're just Paige. And you were there for me anyway, when you had every reason not to. But you were. Jeeze- I..."

Mike took a deep breath and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. This was much more difficult than he had thought it would be. He wanted to slap himself: he had never been bad at doing important speeches - he even had been a valedictorian at his own graduation - yet, when it came to Paige, he wasn't able to put more than three or five words one after the other without meddling and making a fool of himself.

"Mike..." she touched his arm and tried to pull him close to her, but he sprung back, as if he had got burnt.

"Just, let me finish. What I'm trying to say is... I've been an idiot, completely out of line. I should've listened to you when you asked me to", he had now gained more confidence and finally looked into her in the eyes.

Mike touched her hip and pulled her close, against his chest; his right hand came up to fondle her cheek: he stared profoundly into the green of her eyes, before touching their noses together and letting his forehead rest on hers.

Paige closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. She rested a hand onto his chest and felt the incessant beating of his heart under her palm, smiling.

"Your heart's speed racing, Mike." She murmured. He nodded, swallowing nervously.

"I let our job get in the way and forgot what was important..."

The room felt so incredibly smaller. _'It's now or never', _he thought, trying to build up the courage to voice his feelings. His last words lingered in the air for a few seconds, before he let himself finish.

"...you, Paige. It's you. It's always been you and always will be."

Mike didn't wait for her reaction, too afraid of what that would be. He simply slid his hand down her chin and pulled her face up for a kiss: he pressed his lips to hers, firmly, pouring in that kiss all the hidden emotions he had kept inside for so much time; he wanted to make her feel them, perceive them, touch them. Make them real and concrete in her eyes.

He knew Paige, better than anybody else in the house: feelings and emotions weren't her thing. Or at least, they weren't the main pivot of her Universe: they were an optional; her job was her entire life.

'_... she cried, Mike. Paige cried_'

That's why Charlie's revelation had been a shock on him: Paige never let what she felt get a hold of her and change who she was.

He was so busy and intent in making that kiss special and unforgettable, that he didn't even feel the sensual movement her lips had begun making against his: losing control of the situation, Mike pried her lips open and slid his tongue in to play with hers. He kissed her with passion, slowly, with no such hurry: he took his time, nibbling on her lips, bruising them, feeling the soft touch of her pink tongue against his, running his fingers on the sides of her face and smiling into the kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, they looked at one another sheepishly.

"Sorr-", they both said at the same time. Mike chuckled, taking a step back, and Paige looked down, hiding her smile.

"I- I kinda got carried away, you kno- the... heat of the moment", he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Paige watched him stumble on his own words and bit her lip: the sudden, forcefully sexy Mike of just moments before had disappeared, and his adorable version was back. She smiled, pulling at his sweatpants and reaching up to kiss him softly on the lips.

"I didn't mind...", she whispered against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for another kiss.

She pushed him slowly towards her bed, when he suddenly caught her arms and detached his lips from hers.

"Wait..." he breathed out. She looked at him, confused. "As much as I want to do this – and oh God, believe me.. I do... I so do..."

Mike gave her body an appreciative look, before fixing his eyes into hers to avoid distractions.

"After everything that's happened tonight, I don't think it'd be as good as it should be now that we... well..." he trailed off, nodding slightly to make his point. She awed.

"You're just so adorable, you can't even say it!" She exclaimed, pinching his cheeks. He rolled his eyes, sneaking his arms around her waist and pulling her against him, feeling her soft body fit perfectly to his front.

He hid his face into her neck and breathed into her scent, relaxing.

Paige circled his waist with one arm, her other hand going straight to the back of his neck, touching his hair and scraping lightly the soft skin at the nape. He hummed against her shoulder, leaving a soft kiss there.

She had to admit, this felt quite good: she had always thought that those vanilla, hyper sugary couple were boring; that the sex couldn't have been that great if you were constantly attached to the hip, with your hands always on each other; where was the excitement in that? There was no sense of adventure. Whereas, the thrill of hooking up was definitely something to go for: there was always something unexpected about that kind of sex.

But now, in Mike's arms, she _knew_.

It wasn't about the sex, it wasn't about the thrill of adventure.

It was all about the right person.


	5. What the young lovers do

**Hello! Let me start by saying how GRATEFUL I am for all your reviews. You're awesome!  
>About the requested Christmas chapter: I've thought about that, but since I'm following the season 2 time range, I don't think it'd fit well in this story. I could write a Christmas one shot, but only if I get a really good idea. I already have a New Year's Eve inspired one, but it's still in the works.<strong>

**If you're interested in a Christmas PIKE story, though, you should really check out lakergirl4life's AMAZING story "Guaranteed success": it's just been published, so go check it out if you haven't already!**

**Back to the story: this is more of a filler, so I kind of let myself go... I exaggerated with the PIKE fluff. Hope you guys don't mind ;) Let me know what you think!**

**- xo, Mel**

**P.S. I've already started writing the following chapters. The power of the Graceland fandom! ;)**

* * *

><p>"Paige, that feels so good..."<p>

"I can feel it. It's right there..."

"Mhm... yes, just... push a little harde-Oh God"

Throwing his head back, Mike moaned and closed his eyes in total relaxation; so this was what it felt like to be in a zen mood. He reached up to Paige – who was kneeling behind him- and wrapped his fingers around her tiny wrists. He brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed her palm.

"You're incredible."

He was sure their roommates were going to kick them ninja style the next morning: they had entered the bathroom just past midnight, to get ready for bed, but somehow ended up staying in there 'till late in the night. Mike didn't remember quite well how it came up – although he was glad it did, now more than ever -, but thanks to the fall he had taken when everything had blown up at the bus station, he was now in the best place he could have ever imagined of being: having a warm bath, completely naked, with Paige massaging his back to untie the knots in his shoulders. '_Hands of an angel'_.

"So I've been told."

Paige slid her hands down his bare chest. His head rested on her shoulder, eyes closed. His damp hair tickling her neck.

Letting go of her wrists, he slid one hand up her forearm and let the other play with her fingers.

"Where have you even learnt that?"

She tightened her grip on him and rubbed her nose on his cheek: his fair stubble creating a nice friction against her skin that she surprisingly liked.

"It felt good, didn't it?"

"So good..." he agreed, nodding his head imperceptibly. He was so relaxed she feared he'd fall asleep right there, as he moved his head slightly just to release a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

"The perks of dating a masseur..." she trailed off, watching with one eye as he tensed, but acted like he didn't care.

"Mhm. A masseur, uh?"

"Yeah... It didn't last: he used to sell drugs underhand to his customers, so."

Mike laughed, his chest rising under her grip as a fit of chuckles made its way out of his mouth.

"So you were undercover! He didn't do it first hand on you."

Paige scratched his chest softly, pulling at the hair there. Her fingers worked on his skin, chasing small droplets of water down his abdomen and disappearing underwater; relaxing into her touch, his eyelids opened halfway to let her give a peak at the blue orbs underneath. He looked at her with adoration, and she decided to have a little fun, grinning at him.

"Well... not exactly... he did have a great body. All those muscles..." she trailed off, looking up at the ceiling as if reminiscing. Mike's eyes shot all the way open, as he stared across the room at an undefined point. Paige hid a laugh.

"...and boy, he knew how to use his hands." She couldn't help but smile childishly at his worried expression. He glanced at her, realization hitting him instantly.

"Okay, okay"

"He did this thing-" Her words died in her throat as she let out a squeal and found herself drenched in water, on his lap: Mike had reached up and firmly - but carefully - grabbed her underarms, pulling her down in the bathtub. That had caused her to flip forward and do some sort of clumsy and embarrassing somersault, falling right between his legs; her butt hitting the surface of the tub with a _thud _and water splashing everywhere.

She sat there, shocked: her shirt – _his_ shirt- clung to her body, leaving very little to the imagination; her hair, due to the sudden movement, had fallen out of the bun and water was now running down her face.

As she felt Mike shaking with laughter, she turned around, fire in her eyes, and swung at him: he caught her arm mid-air and, as she went to hit him with the other, he pulled her on his chest, his laugh dying down.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! You just- you made me!" He tried to defend himself. She scuffed at him.

"The hell I did! I can't believe you just did that, I'm drenched!"

Paige shook his arms off of her, trying to stand up to get away from him. Thanks to his reflexes, Mike caught her as soon as she made the move and brought her down onto him once again. He sneaked his arm under her breasts and held her tightly, so not to let her escape his embrace one more. He kissed her cheek, leaning his chin onto her shoulder.

"Seriously, I couldn't resist you. You shouldn't have worn my shirt..." Mike whispered into her ear, letting one of his hands roam under, feeling her skin. Relaxing into his embrace, Paige laid her head on his chest, making him shift and place his chin on its top.

"Well, you ruined it. I'm all wet!"

"That doesn't seem to be a problem to me..."

He rubbed her smooth, soft hip, feeling the string of her panties under his fingertips. He was about to push his hand further, when she slapped it away, crossing her arms afterwards.

"You're not getting lucky for a long time, Mike. Seriously, what's got into you?"

The tone in her voice was supposed to be menacing, but it came out more like a whisper: she couldn't help but think about being wrapped up into his body – his _naked_ body. Damn her for being such a woman and damn him for being so handsome.

"I just wanted an excuse to hold you again, okay? And... I was kind jealousmpf." He murmured the last part almost incomprehensibly, but she caught it anyway.

Paige turned her face around to look at him, puzzled: Mike had never seemed to be the jealous type. At least, she had never noticed: when he was dating Abby, she'd have tons of guys appreciating her body, but not once had he acknowledged being jealous. Not even when Paige's dj/pusher/fake boyfriend had tried to make a move on her.

Instead, he had seemed more pissed off by the way he talked about Paige, other than Abby.

"Jealous?" She asked.

Mike bit his lip, trying to keep himself from talking: something that rarely happened. In fact, a few seconds later, he let it go.

"Yes! Jealous, okay? I can't help it, it comes natural. I can't stand people looking at you the way I do, 'cause I know they think the same things I do. I know what they'd do to you and that infuriates me!" He growled, almost as if some of the guys that usually whistled at her at The Drop were there in the room.

Paige tried not to smile, she really did. She was still pissed at him for soaking her, but he was just too adorable. She planted a loud kiss on his lips, chuckling, and let herself fall back against his chest with a laugh.

"I can't believe you!"

"Stop laughing at me, this is serious." Mike looked daggers at her, blushing.

She didn't bother to look back; she simply took his arms and laid them on her shoulders, nesting into his embrace. His hands instinctively entwining with hers.

"Okay, sorry, my fault."

Paige didn't dare to speak up, waiting for him to start rambling again about her masseur (fake) boyfriend, asking her all sorts of questions about him, what they did, how it ended. But what came after wasn't exactly what she was expecting.

He had just slipped one of his hands out of hers to run his fingers on her bare leg, curled up next to his, when he repeated _that_ phrase.

"Paige... why did you say that this morning? That _you wanted to have my kids_?"

Damn. She thought he wouldn't remember that.

'_Oh shut up, of course he would! That's what everybody will talk about for the next weeks in this house!_' She mentally scolded herself.

She froze, thinking about a valid and believable reason to give him. But her mind was not working, the only thing coming up was that damn phrase. Why did she have to say that, out of all the things she could've said?

As she shifted slightly, Mike tightened his grip around her, squeezing her petite frame and blocking every possible movement she could make.

"Oh no, no, no. You're not running away again like you did this morning." He murmured into her ear, huskily.

Paige swallowed thickly, as his breath tickled the side of her neck; she felt her legs go weak and, had she been standing instead of in the bathtub with him, she'd fallen down for sure. How was it possible that these feelings were provoked by the same guy she had first looked at like a little brother? Like the mascot of the house?

"Mike, leave it. Please." She whispered, looking down at her feet emerging from the water. She felt his lips brushing against her ear.

"No, I'm not letting this go. What are you afraid of? It's just me..."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of..."

He looked at her in a way that broke her heart: it was a mixture of guilt and sadness, something she had never wanted to see on his face. Maybe it was time to finally stop thinking and start sharing. That's what she had to learn how to do if she wanted this to work out. _'I want this to work out_', she thought.

"No, it's not like that. Whatever you're fabricating in your mind, it's not. It's just... this morning, you said something that scared me. Something about your kids having my laugh and it freaked me the hell out. That's why I ran away. I'm so sorry..."

Mike stared at her: he did remember saying something like that, but he didn't exactly connect it to what she had said in the kitchen, being too shocked by it at first. Now, it all became more clear and he couldn't help but smile at the deep blush that was slowly creeping up on her face.

"Then I realized you didn't really mention having kids with me, so I thought that maybe that was your way of telling me this... thing... between us wasn't that serious. That you were seeing other women. And then Jessica came into the picture. And I saw you two hugging in the kitchen, her languid glances and well, yeah, I had this-"

Grabbing her chin firmly, he turned her face and kissed her fully on the lips to stop her from rambling: she closed her eyes, getting lost into his touch; her hand grasped his neck and his lips parted, tasting her. When he pulled away, she was left breathless.

"Just stop, okay?"

"I don't want to have your kids, Mike. I mean, no. I think I'll possibly want your kids, but- Shit!"

He chuckled, using his thumb to caress her lower lip. It was so absurd: whenever she used her sailor mouth, he became even more attracted to her. She was smart, funny, sexy and all those things pretty girls usually are. But when she swore like that? It drove him crazy.

"Slow down..."

"Fuck, no! That was my way of telling you that I wanted you, that Jessica had to go to hell 'cause I wanted this. I wanted us. It just came out in the wrong way and at the wrong time."

She cursed Johnny: he was never going to let this one go. Especially if they came out clean and told everyone they had agreed to start a relationship. Something that wasn't actually in their plans yet: when they talked about it before, Mike had assured her that he would have given her all the time that she needed to get used to it; she had never been in a really serious relationship before, except for those flings that lasted 3 or 4 months. So they had to take it slow: she planned to be with him way more than just a few months.

Mike examined her face lovingly: he touched a damp strand of hair and fondled her cheek, making her lean into his hand.

"Listen to me... I don't want kids, I only probably will in a not so near but distant future. But if I had to choose anyone, I'd choose you..." he fixed his eyes into hers, to show her just how serious he was.

"I meant it before: it will always be you."

They were just about to let their lips touch, when a loud knock echoed through the room: a black shadow appeared behind the blurred glass of the door. Mike glanced at the clock on the wall signalling 4.30AM.

"Who's in there?!"

Briggs.

Paige started giggling, amused by the situation: the man who had set the Graceland rules (and never once followed them) was on the other side of the door while they were in such a compromising position, with her wet to her bones and him naked, squeezing their bodies together. She hid her face into Mike's neck, as he shushed her and tried not to laugh himself.

"It's me!" He yelled in response.

"Mike? What the hell, man?! Why are you locked up in there at this time of the night?!"

"I... I went out before to clear my mind and got a taco from Hector's. Must have been rotten or something like that. Didn't want to wake you guys!" Coughing, he pretended to gag, which caused Paige's giggles to increase.

Briggs eyebrows, on the other side of the door, furrowed: '_what was that?_'

"Mike... are you alone?"

"'Course I am. I'm fine, don't worry... I'll be back in my bed in a minute!"

Paul glanced at Paige's room: the door was wide open and the bed was still intact; every piece of the puzzle came together and he snorted. _'Alone my ass'_

"Okay, Mikey. Take care, man!" He pretended to leave, listening from the side of the door as whispers and giggles fused together.

"I think he's gone", Mike whispered. Paige cast a look at the door: the shadow wasn't there anymore. She nodded her head, unable to talk, as she couldn't help the amusement to show off on her face with a big smile. Mike launched forward, attacking her neck with kisses and tickling her sides.

"Ah, you're nothing but trouble!" Mike mocked her, biting her cheek. She giggled, squirming in his arms.

Suddenly, Briggs's voice interrupted them again.

"Hey Mike? Tell Paige there she ought to be ready at 10 tomorrow, will you? Zelanski's going to be her back up!"

Unable to hold it anymore, and not really seeing the point in doing so, Paige laughed loudly, throwing her head back. Mike did the same, holding his hand up even though Paul couldn't see.

"Sure thing, buddy!"

On the other side of the door, Briggs shook his head, smiling to himself. '_Kids_'.


	6. First green shoots

**Hello! Thanks again for all the reviews, you make my day :,)  
>I apologize for the extra length of this chapter, but I don't know if I'll be able to post tomorrow due to my relatives coming in for Christmas eve. I'll try to, though!<strong>

**Just a few notes: I'm totally screwing the original series plot. I'm changing a few things: Paige and Jakes went to Sylmar behind Mike'sback – specifically, AFTER Mike confessed to her he had a fling with Jessica back in Dc and BEFORE he came back from the explotion at the bus station. She and Jakes were "celebrating", remember?-; Paige never took Anika's place, she was actually able to put a mic on her and follow her to Sylmar; Jessica and Bates are staying as supporting characters – as I've said before. **

**I hope you like this one. Let me know, if you want! Enjoy 3**

**- xo, Mel**

"Something's wrong."

"So wrong."

"Definitely wrong."

It was just past 9 when Jakes, Charlie and Johnny sat down at the kitchen table, worry all over their faces and eyes fixed on the stove: there, all cheery and happy, stood Paige, moving around as she actually knew what she was doing. Truth is, she didn't, but it wasn't the case to show that to her roommates.

Glancing at them, she smiled brightly, before breaking two eggs in the sizzling pan. Charlie stood up, ready to intervene.

"D'you need help over there?"

Paige waved her off, trying to make an even omelette. '_How the hell does he do that every morning?_' She asked herself.

Johnny turned to Dale, still eyeing her skeptically.

"Marley's? It's on me." He whispered, earning a furious nod from the ICE agent. They both stood up, taking a bolt out of the kitchen.

They were already halfway through the entrance, when Paige shouted after them.

"Cowards!"

The two snickered, almost running into Briggs on their way out. He looked at them puzzled, only to realize soon after _why_ they were escaping so early from the house, skipping breakfast.

"'Morning ladies, 'sup?"

Sharing a worried glance with Charlie, he opened the fridge and grabbed some OJ, acting nonchalantly.

"Paige's making breakfast!"

Biting her lip, the DEA beauty nodded, trying to stick the omelette off the pan: she grabbed a fork and started pulling, scratching piece of burnt eggs off the surface. Charlie ran to her side, grabbing her wrists to try and still the movement.

"No, no, that's not-"

" 'Morning everyone!"

Mike entered the kitchen with a big smile on his face, sweat and water drenching his grey t-shirt: as Paul and Charlie turned to greet him, Paige looked down at the pan, hiding a smirk; she carefully peaked at him as he made his way to the fridge, passing her. He brushed past her, lightly touching her hip and holding his chin up, murmuring a good morning.

Briggs elbowed Charlie, nodding towards them.

"'Morning Mike." Paige replied, looking at him with the corner of her eye as he took a bottle of water and drank a long sip.

"Paige is making breakfast today." Paul exclaimed, mimicking his fellow agent and sipping his OJ.

Mike leant on the fridge, taking into his surroundings: the counter was covered in flour and egg shells, signaling something had gone wrong with the previous tries at making omelettes.

His eyes passed over a cup of sugar and he flinched.

"Mhmm, sounds great. I don't think that's gonna match with my yoghurt, though."

Paige scoffed at him, throwing the freshly burnt omelette onto a plate and cleaning her hands on the apron. "I've never said I was cooking for you, guys!"

She held her hands up, untying the cooking garment and circling the counter to sit on a stool. She passed Mike and made a smug face, almost challenging him; he smiled at her, sticking his spoon in his mouth and licking it slowly, sliding it down his lower lip. He wiggled his eyebrows, as she eyed his lip with a suffering expression on her face: she wanted to kiss him so badly she was almost tempted to kick both Charlie and Paul out of the kitchen. '_Damn relationship phases!'_

Charlie held the pan in her hands and looked at it hopelessly, walking to the sink to try and wash off the mess Paige had made, before letting the dishwasher do the magic.

"I've thought about what you said yesterday, Mikey" Paul started. Mike looked at him curiously, taking another spoonful. "There must have been a leak, there's no other explanation. But who the hell was it?"

Mike nodded, thoughtfully. He put his yoghurt down and cracked his neck. Paige looked at him, cutting her breakfast in pieces.

"It could've been anyone. I'm going to the FBI and I'm asking for a full list of all those who were involved. If there's something, we'll find it."

Paul nodded, crossing his arms. Charlie looked at him, scrubbing the pan.

"What about Jessica? Can't she do something about it?"

"I was going to give her a call when I got the list, she likes to sleep in." Mike replied, eyeing Paige with the corner of his eye: she didn't flinch at her name and didn't seem to be interested in _how_ he knew that, but he was afraid she'd hold it against him later.

Paige absentmindedly ate a piece of her omelette: her eyes widened and her face paled. She was about to spit it out, but the hilarity on Briggs and Mike's faces made her chug it down. Her stomach churned, but she had her pride to defend.

"Mhm" she commented. Mike hid a chuckle.

He was about to say something, but was cut off by Zelanski entering the kitchen with a blonde head on his trail. His smile died on his face, as he recomposed himself and greeted Jessica. Paige looked at him with a tight smile on her face. _'Speaking of the devil'_.

"Look who I found" Zelanski said, pointing at Jessica with his thumb. "AD Foster is here."

Standing next to Mike, he nodded towards his yoghurt, expectedly. "You gonna finish that, bro?"

The FBI agent looked at him, completely weirded out. '_Bro?_' He handed it to him, skeptically.

"Help yourself, _bro_."

As Wayne went to sit at the kitchen table, Jessica turned to the rest of the group, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Good morning, agent Foster. Breakfast?" Paige pushed her plate towards the AD, smiling. Mike gave her an exasperated stare. '_You having fun with this or what?_'

"No, thanks. I'm here against my will, trust me." The blonde haired woman replied. She set her bag down on the counter and looked around the kitchen, fidgeting. Mike noticed that: he moved from his spot and went to stand between her and Paige.

Their '_relationship_' had been going on long enough for him to know when she was about to share some bad news. He looked her straight in the eye.

"What happened." It wasn't a question, it wasn't a statement: he was demanding the truth.

Jessica eyed Briggs, nervously. She looked back at Mike and rubbed his forearm.

"You may want to sit down."

"Hell no, I'm not sitting down! Spit it out, Jess!"

He shook her hand off of him, gripping the counter. Paige jumped in her seat: his tone was slowly getting harsher and louder.

Jessica sighed.

"Whatever it is that you have to say, say it right now. Stop beating around the bush!"

Paige stood up, grasping his shoulder. "Mike, calm down." She whispered.

He turned his head slightly, breathing through his nose. His eyes never leaving the AD's ones.

"So?" He asked, more calmly.

Jessica straightened her back, pulling herself back together. If he wanted to hear it like that, he would be hearing it like that.

"You're off the case, Agent Warren. Agent Briggs will take from where you've left off and be in charge, so to close the case as soon as possible." Turning to Paul, she handed him a folder. "You'll keep in touch with me and give me every detail you come across, no exceptions. The bureau is trusting you with this, don't mess it up." She said, sternly.

The kitchen went silent.

Charlie reached to Paul, grabbing his hand and looking at the labeled folder. Paige ran to her side, doing the same. She looked at Mike in disbelief, taking into his clenched fists and set jaw: there, in that folder, was everything he had been working on and now they were taking it from him. He was fuming, looking at Jessica as if he wanted to eat her alive.

"Your service starts now, Agent Briggs. The sooner you start moving, the better."

She grabbed her bag and slid it off the counter, turning to leave. When she reached the door, a firm hand grasped her wrist, spinning her around with force. She came face to face with Mike.

An overly pissed Mike.

"What the hell did you do that for? Uh? I was this close-"

"You were this close to ruin your career, Mike! You'll be thanking me later, trust me."

Mike let her arm go, shrugging it off. He got into her face.

"Thank you? For what? This IS ruining my career, Jess! How am I supposed to go back to DC and face every body there, uh? I have failure written all over my forehead, now!"

Jessica scoffed.

"You're telling me you really were going back to DC, Mike?" She asked. He looked at her, emotionless, and took a step back. Her stare was hard to read, but he knew she didn't mean that. She hadn't screwed him over just because he was considering staying at Graceland. Jessica wasn't like that. She was way too professional. '_Or maybe she's just like any other woman._'

When he didn't say anything, she grinned. Bitterly.

"Exactly." She took a step back, adjusting her jacket that had been wrinkled by his sudden outburst. "I told you to stay focused, Mike. But you lost it and now you're facing the consequences: the Bureau can be really mean and unfair. Why did you think I warned you in the first place?"

As Jessica made her exit, Mike stood there, listening to the annoying clicking of her heels on the concrete outside. He turned to go back into the kitchen, where all the eyes fell on him.

Bates, still at the kitchen table, finished his yoghurt, stealing the last spoonful. Just like Briggs was now stealing his last chance of succeeding at this case.

"Man, I'm sorry, I-"

Paul started, but Mike cut him off. Harshly.

"No, you're not." He looked at his elder intensely. "'Cause I know I wouldn't be." He laid his hands flat on the counter, sighing deeply and lowering his head. Paige rushed to his side, rubbing circles on his back. "You okay?"

Mike ignored her, scanning the cracks on the counter tiles. _Something didn't feel right_.

"Bitch. Why would she do that after all that you've done?" Charlie spat out.

He shook his head, looking up at her. A thoughtful expression on his face.

"It wasn't her. This came from somebody else. Somebody wanted me off this case. Question is who. And why." He slammed his hand against the counter.

Grabbing his bottle of water, he surprisingly pushed Paige's hand away and went upstairs, leaving everybody in the kitchen speechless. Charlie stared at Paige, worriedly, before turning to Paul.

"I'm free, I can cover her…"

"No." Paige interjected, motioning to Zelanski to stand up. "I've got this. It's better if he works it off alone." She cast a nervous look where Mike had left and turned to Wayne, patting his shoulder. "Let's go."

**X**

Mike leaned his forehead against the wall, letting the spray of hot water fall right onto his head.

It was late in the morning, almost lunch time, but he still couldn't get over what had happened at breakfast. What had started as an amazing day was quickly becoming one of the worst of his life. It shouldn't have been like that, though: he had finally got Paige. It was supposed to be an easy run from there. At least for his personal life: his job was giving him a hard time, but he had been confident that everything would have turned alright and a lot easier with her by his side.

He didn't see that one coming.

He knew the Bureau was pissed at him for "wasting his time after a hopeless case", but he would have never imagined they'd take it from him. It only meant one thing: his career was destroyed; he had went from being one of the few successful, young agent to a shadow of the man who put Jeremiah Bello down.

As the water got hotter and hotter, irritating his skin, he punched the wall; the noise echoing in the blurred glass walls of the shower.

It wasn't supposed to be like this; it wasn't supposed to _end_ like this.

As the events of the previous night came flashing through his mind, Mike growled, punching the wall repeatedly. He kept punching, punching and punching, but he didn't feel any pain. He only kept thinking one word: failure.

That's what everybody would think from now on when they saw him passing by: a walking, sorry ass failure. '_So much for wanting to be a rockstar._'

He growled, throwing one last but powerful punch into the wall, when he heard a voice calling his name softly. He turned the faucet off, rubbing the soapy water off his eyes and looking through the glass: he couldn't see her properly but he would've recognized her silhouette anywhere.

"Mike?"

**X**

Paige leaned against the sink, watching as he moved around in the shower to get out: he didn't seem to care about her presence, since he simply stood out in all his naked glory and grabbed a towel to tie around his waist. She watched each one of his movements, as he dried himself: his muscles were too tense, she could see that from afar and, had it been under other circumstances, she could've even made a comment of appreciation, which would have probably led to a nice, late morning make out. But this wasn't the case.

He was still pissed off by what had happened in the kitchen before. Who wouldn't? It was so unfair: Mike was an incredible, talented and damn good agent, there was no reason for the Bureau to do what they had done. Because this came from the Bureau, Paige knew that: even though she hadn't been a fan of Jessica from the very moment the two had met, she could see she really cared about Mike. Maybe too much for her liking, but she did: she wouldn't have pulled a stunt like that on him, even if she had been jealous.

One thing caught her eye: Mike's right hand was way too red. She had seen the steam coming out, signaling a rather hot shower, but the redness -and especially the swell- hadn't been caused by the hot spray of water. '_I did hear right, then…_'

As he threw on a fresh pair of boxers and grey sweatpants, Paige pushed herself off the sink and grabbed his hand, examining it. Mike didn't seem to notice what had caught her attention, as he reached to grab his towel with the other.

"What the hell did you do, Mike?!" She yelped out, louder than she had intended. He looked back at his own hand, only now realizing the cause of the worry in her eyes. He retreated it, flexing it and rolling his eyes.

"It's nothing." He breathed out, throwing the towel over his shoulder and walking out of the bathroom, directed at his room. Paige close on his tail.

"Nothing? That doesn't seem nothing to me!"

His back tensed, as he sighed and threw his room's door open; he was about to close it in her face, when she quickly slipped in, closing it herself behind her back. She crossed her arms, watching him walking barefoot to his dresser and pulling out a white t-shirt.

"Are you going to be like this for the rest of the day? 'Cause I can deal with that. I can deal with lots of things, Mike." Paige challenged him, hoping to get some sort of reaction.

All she got back instead was just a simple reply muffled by the white piece of fabric, as he pulled it on, making his naked torso disappear from her view.

"Paige… I'm not in the mood for this right now." He said, way too calmly.

She walked closer to him. As he turned around, she grabbed his hands, examining the damage he had provoked to himself: his knuckles were scratched and swollen, while the back of his hand was slowly turning into a purple-blueish color. She ran her fingers delicately on the tortured skin, but he didn't even flinch nor made any kind of painful sound.

"This is not going to help, Mike. You can't punish yourself for this, you really can't." Paige whispered, bringing his hand to her lips to caress the fresh scars on his hand. Mike softened, as she watched her loving gesture.

He sighed, closing his eyes and gently prying his hand from her grip: she looked up at him, sadly. He could clearly see her mind worrying for his state. '_Please, don't do this._'

"C'me here…" Mike whispered, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her in for a kiss. Their lips touched slowly at first, but as her hand grasped his shoulder, the kiss became more and more impetuous, carnal and domineering. She slowly backed off, detaching her lips from his and not daring to look up: her eyes fixed on his chest.

Mike slid his hands down onto her hips, breathing heavily over her head. Eyes closed.

"I get it, Mike. I do…" She whispered, understandingly.

Mike laughed a bitter laugh, releasing her frame and taking a step back. He shook his head.

"No, you don't." He said, firmly.

Paige looked at him, annoyed by his sudden change of humor.

"Yes, I do."

"No, you really don't."

'_There he goes again with the bitter laugh.'_ She thought, as Mike contradicted her again.

"Yes, I-"

"No, you fuckin' don't, Paige!" He suddenly yelled, opening his arms wide; eyes full of resentment.

Paige slowly shut her mouth, looking at him with shocked eyes. She sat down on his bed, trying to keep herself together. She did get it and she did expect him to say she didn't. What she hadn't expected was him to scream at her like that. His voice had been so loud that everybody in the house at the moment had probably heard that.

Mike looked at her with a hard stare for a few moments, before rubbing a hand over his face and spinning on his place once. He put one hand on his hip, while gesturing with the other as he resumed talking -more like yelling, though- to her. His eyes never left hers.

"You don't know what this feels like? Okay? I've failed! They took my case from me. _MY_ case! Okay? The one I've been working on for months now! And I don't even know why! I've been killing myself over this! Literally! And now some stupid ass decided to screw me over!"

He pinched his nose, trying to calm his breathing and his voice down. When he started talking again, his voice was slightly lower.

"This was a mess from the start. But it could've worked! It could have! Damn! If only I had stayed back in DC! Coming here was a fucking mistake, it ruined everything - all that I had!"

Paige watched helplessly as he turned around and braced the dresser. His head hung low and his shoulders rose up and down with every breath he took. A silent tear slid down her cheek, but she soon caught it, wiping it off.

"So… I ruined you, uh? Our… thing. Was it a mistake too? Was _I_ a mistake too, Mike?"

Mike looked back at her, furrowing his eyebrows. He pushed himself off the dresser as she stood up.

"What? No- I didn't mean-"

"You said that, I didn't." She stated, firmly.

Mike tried to look into her eyes, but she smartly avoided his stare. He could see she was hurt: her body spoke to him. He was sure that if she gave him the opportunity of glancing at her eyes, he'd see her doe emeralds either bloodshot or glistening with tears. This Paige, the one he was learning to know more than himself was revealing to be more than the badass girl he had found himself attracted to since the very beginning. She was extremely sensitive, something you would have never guessed at a first glance. He was one of the lucky few whom she showed that side of her, but right now Mike was hating it.

And he was hating himself for even letting her think she had been the problem. His mistake.

"Paige, no. You have nothing to do with this, I didn't mean us-"

"I know exactly what you meant." She said, glancing at him one last time before exiting the room: the door shut silently behind her back.

Mike clenched his fist as he stared at the place she had been standing. He squeezed his eyes, painfully.

This was definitely _the_ worst day of his life.

**X**

Jessica had never been one to go to bed early.

Her mind had always been working more than it should have; thoughts filled her head constantly. She never felt exhausted, but always full of energy coming from those same thoughts. At the beginning, when she was only a child, she had tried to literally knock them down in a journal: it had helped, but as the years passed by she hadn't been able to find enough time to keep doing that.

Therefore, going to bed late at night had become a regular routine of hers.

Of course, the only thing that had actually helped during her adulthood had been sex. Not ordinary, boring sex. _Great_ sex. The kind of sex she had been experiencing for quite a few months with one particular young agent, who was now probably playing darts with a picture of her.

That's why she was awake at 1AM in her Los Angeles Plaza Hotel room, sipping cognac.

And that's also why she hadn't expected anybody to knock on her door at this time of the night.

She had had no idea who could have been, but the blonde agent standing in front of her was one of the last persons she'd expected to find on the other side of the door.

Jessica leaned onto the open door, titling her head to look at Paige; a surprised and puzzled expression on her face, glass in hand.

"You?" She asked, almost laughing at the hilarity of the situation: of all the people that could come to her, his lover's lover was the most unexpected one.

"Hi. I'm sorry, it's so late. But I really need to talk to you about something important. Can I come in?" Paige asked, taking off her baseball cap.

She was wearing an old, large blue t-shirt over a pair of worn out shorts; tennis shoes at her feet. Jessica had on a black nightgown and she was barefoot. Paige now realized why Mike had fallen under her spell back in DC: she was a woman, more womanly than she'd ever be.

It looked like she was contemplating either slamming the door in her face or have somebody drag her away. Surprisingly, she showed her a fake but sweet smile, stepping aside to let her come in.

"Thank you." Paige said, as she brushed past her. Once the door was closed, she felt trapped and small. '_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…'_

"Can I make you a drink?" Jessica politely asked. "Have a seat."

Paige sat down at the room table, putting her cap down on the luxury surface. She was fancy, too. Now, Mike's '_fling'_ with her really did make sense.

"No, thanks. I don't want to bother you more than I already am." She reasoned, looking at her.

Jessica nodded, sitting down at the end of her bed, legs crossed. She sipped her cognac.

"Mhm. I guess I'm gonna need one more of these soon, then." She pointed her glass at Paige, who shook her head.

"It'll just take a few minutes… I'm here for Mike."

The blonde woman grinned, taking another sip. "Figured. Who else would you be here for?"

"Look, we both know he's a phenomenal agent. It's not fair what's been done to him. But I also know that you weren't the one to pull the trigger. Am I right?"

The grin on Jessica's face faded, as Paige laid her hand on the table, leaning forward. She took another sip; this time a longer and bigger one.

"Smart girl" she commented.

"Mike figured it out himself too." She shrugged her shoulders.

Jessica's lips tightened into a thin line.

"What happened?" Paige asked, eager to know the truth.

The blonde woman shook her head.

"I can't say anything. Secrecy."

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" Paige retorted. "I know you don't like me, but I also know you like Mike quite a bit. Don't you want to help him?"

"And what do you think I'm doing, you sorry thing?" Jessica spat out, bitterly, gritting her teeth.

She gripped the glass in her hands tightly as she drank the rest of her cognac in one long sip. Uncrossing her legs, she stood up to make herself another drink.

She took the bottle and made the yellowish liquid title inside, before pouring it into her glass.

"Mike's never left the Bureau's eye, ever since he graduated from Quantico. They had great expectations for him. I myself heard of him since he was still in his last semester there, although it is only after the Bello bust that I put a face to the name." She explained, taking the glass in her hands and running her fingers on its edge, all the while giving her back to Paige.

"I told him to play safe, but he didn't listen. Just like he didn't listen when I told him not to lose his focus. Which he did, obviously." She casted a glance at Paige, turning around. "You're right, I never reported him to the Bureau. But apparently, somebody else did it. And yes, I tried to save his ass, if that's what you're asking me."

Jessica fixed her eyes onto Paige, taking her first sip from the newly fresh made drink.

The DEA agent nodded slowly, looking at an undefined spot on the wall; a thoughtful look on her face. She was right and so was Mike: it hadn't been Jessica. So who? Who would've wanted to damage him like that?

She quickly pulled herself together, ready to go all the way with this.

"You need to put him back into service. Get him a place on the team."

Jessica chuckled, embracing herself and pointing her glass at her.

"You're definitely crazier than I thought you'd be, you know that?"

"No, I'm not. I'm serious."

"There's no way I can do that. He's been suspended by the Bureau. Even if I did call the deputy-"

"Then do it." Paige stated, standing up. "Call him. I'm sure he can do something for him!"

Jessica shook her head, her face darkening.

"If I do that, Mike's screwed. The deputy doesn't know about what happened at the station yet. Clarke and I are the only superiors aware of that and I'm planning to keep it that way until I go back to DC and this case's finally over."

Paige started fidgeting. She ran a hand through her hair, biting her lip harshly and earning a suspicious look from the AD in front of her. Jessica moved closer to her, taking into her alarmed state.

"What did you do?"

"Wha-?"

"You did something. What is it that you're hiding, Arkin?"

Paige mentally scolded herself: '_Grow some balls, P_!'

"I know how to help Mike to finally close this case, but I need him back on the team. He has to take the merit, he worked way too hard for that."

Jessica looked at her, confused.

"How?"

"The other day… when you revoked my team… I went down to the bus station with Dal- _Agent Jakes_. We convinced Anika, one of the Tinker bells, to wear a wire and followed her to the final destination: we found out where this trafficking is taking place."

Paige's eyes shined with both hope and anger: she hoped that she'd approve at least her idea but she was mad because she hadn't approved her team. She was mad because of what they might find now at that horrible place. She was mad because of Mike. She was mad because none of this was fair. It just wasn't.

"You did what?" The blonde woman asked in disbelief.

"I know, I know!" Paige paced around, gesticulating. "We broke the law by going with no back up team and by not letting you know. Hell, not even Mike knows about this! But we did it, we found it: Sylmar. That's where Solano's doing his sex trade."

She went back to stand in front of her superior, trying to convince her. '_This is how you do it, not like you told Mike to._'

"If we send somebody undercover as a client, we can get enough proofs to shut that damn place down and finally have something to hold against Solano: that way, we can destroy the cartel and Mike's reputation will be intact. Just… put him back on the team." She pleaded, expectedly.

Jessica was still furrowing her eyebrows, concentrating on the young agent in front of her. She took another long sip, clearly in deep thoughts.

"How do we find them, though? We need a deal first and there's no way we could-"

"The owner of the bus station, he's still being held in, right?"

"That's right… We can force him to set up a deal in exchange of a reduced sentence. That is, if he's even involved in the sex trade." The AD face relaxed with realization, as she nodded slowly up and down.

"He knows about it." Paige smiled brightly: this was it. She was going to save those girls. And Mike.

Suddenly, Jessica's expression became once again unreadable: her face muscles were motionless, her eyes hard as a stone. She took another sip.

'_Damn, she's really getting on my nerves. Maybe I should've accepted that drink…'_Paige thought.

"And what will you get out of this? Both Mike and I will be seen as winners, but you? What will you get in return?"

Paige looked at her in disbelief. Was she really asking her that? Did she really think she'd do this only if she got something out of it? Did she really think so little of her? Damn, she must look like a horrible agent on the paper if her superior thought that about her. She shook her head, grabbing her cap and sliding it on.

"I want justice. That's all. And it'll get my girls out of there." She stated, walking to the door. "I'll be at the headquarters first thing tomorrow night for the interrogation."

Jessica followed her, drinking what was left of her cognac.

"I haven't said yes yet." She reminded Paige with a challenging tone. Almost as if she wanted to show who was in charge: both on a professional and a personal level - she was in charge of Mike's fate in the FBI.

Paige trembling hand laid on the handle, as she took a deep breath. Her emotions had been set free by Mike's comeback and their rekindled romance, changing her into a much deeper person: she had liked it at first, especially in Mike's arms, but right now it was making this much more difficult than she needed it to be.

"You will," she breathed out. "if you want him to come back to DC with you, you will."


	7. A bridge over troubled water

**Hello & Merry Christmas everybody! Last night, after I came back from Christmas eve's dinner, I got a few ideas. So I had to write them down! I changed some things about this and the other upcoming chapters, hope you like them! **

**I know you're all busy, but I wanted to post this chapter as a "Christmas gift". It's totally PIKE centric, so enjoy! **

**MERRY CHRISTMAS! **

**- xo, Mel**

**P.S. Thank you all for your reviews!**

The door made a fair _clack_ sound that made Mike stir in his sleep. He didn't want to open his eyes. It was way too late and due to the beers he had chugged down on the beach -during his moments of reflection after dinner- his eyes would have taken much longer to adjust to the darkness around him.

He decided to ignore the almost non-existent noise and hugged his pillow tighter, pushing his face into it.

Tomorrow it would be his first day jobless: he hadn't been fired per se, but being suspended was a step closer in that direction. The thought made him both nauseous and furious: he had sacrificed way too much to be where he was now, he didn't want to lose it all. He couldn't lose it all and he sure as hell wouldn't let that happen.

He needed to do something.

As the thought of taking action into the planning of his future pierced his mind, he felt the bed shift lightly behind him. Squeezing and rubbing his eyes, he turned around and came face to face with Paige's shadow.

He gave her a confused glance.

Mike hadn't expected her to talk to him until the next day; in fact, he hadn't even made a move to talk to her, knowing full well she would've been way too pissed to let him say a word.

He figured she had been sleeping already when he had come back from the beach: he had passed by her room and had been tempted to knock on her door to beg for forgiveness, but his pride had won him over and he had gone straight to his room, with no less than a glance back to hers. The light had been off anyway.

Now, there she was: undressing and ready to slip into his bed.

"Paige?" Mike asked, groggily. "What are you- is everything okay?"

She didn't reply. Instead, she pulled her t-shirt over her head and brought her knees to her chest, sliding her shorts down her tanned legs: he could see her skin shimmering even in the deep darkness.

Left in her underwear - a pale blue, lace bra with matching lace boy shorts -, Paige leaned over his bedside table, leaving her phone and keys on the wooden surface.

Mike propped up onto his elbow, throwing his arm around her waist to turn her around.

"Paige… Look, I'm sor-"

"Shut the hell up and go back to sleep, Mike." She cut him off, drily.

Her stare was cold and it left him no chance other than nodding, dropping his hand and turning around with a sigh. Had she been any colder, his room would have turned into the North Pole. It made no sense: why was she here if she didn't want to talk to him?

However, if Paige had decided to sneak into his room –and especially into his bed-, he wouldn't be the one to nip her choice in the bud; he sure as hell needed some comforting company right now.

Little did he know, that was exactly _why_ Paige was there: she might have been mad at him, but that didn't mean she wouldn't be there for him.

He laid his cheek back down onto his pillow, grasping the light blanket to pull it higher on his waist. He could feel her fussing and bustling around behind him, trying to find a good sleeping position; when she finally found one, the room fell into the deepest of silences.

Paige felt Mike's leg moving, brushing against hers. As their feet touched, he quickly pulled it back to his side, arranging himself to a more comfortable position that wouldn't disturb her sleep.

She sighed: how could she stay mad at somebody who cared so much about her well-being that was willing to sleep right on the edge just for her to be at ease?  
>She rolled over, facing his back. She could see his shoulders moving rhythmically in sync with his breathing; the t- shirt he was wearing to bed clung nicely to his torso, showing the lines of his back muscles; his hair pinched to the base of his neck, with stubborn strands sticking out here and there. He would wake up the next day with the weirdest bed hair that would make him look both cute and adorable at the same time. She couldn't help but smile at the thought, tracing her fingers softly down his spine: strangely, she found that extremely sexy.<p>

Giving into it, Paige slithered her arm around his torso, feeling his hidden abs contracting under her touch.

Mike breathed through his nose, as she moved to get closer to him: he relaxed into her embrace, feeling her lips rest between his shoulder blades, and drew his hand from under the blanket to rest on hers. His fingers slid easily between hers, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if their hands were destined to intertwine.

Her flesh, pressed up against his back, sent a shivering warmness into his body that eased him into a deep slumber.

**X**

Mike Warren had definitely died and gone to heaven.

During his days at Quantico, he had often been mocked by his companions and friends for being the only one among them not to take advantage of his soon-to-be-a-federal-agent status to get as many girls as he could. He had been so focused onto his studies that he had put his sentimental/sexual life on hold.

'_You're going to get your v-card back if you keep being like this,'_one of his friends had told him, after he had rejected for the umpteenth time his invitation to go out and get wasted with some bimbos he had met at the bar the night before.

How he wished they could see him now.

It was morning and he had just woken up to the most beautiful face he had ever laid his eyes on: if he had feared it had all been a dream, he had now the tangible proof it hadn't. She was there, with him; her doe eyes closed and her rosy lips parted, breathing warm air on his skin. Her soft cheek was squashed against his forearm as she used it as a pillow and held onto his bicep, curling into him.

Mike had been staring at her for a good 20 minutes now, wondering whether or not he should have woken her up: watching her sleep was so refreshing and beautiful. The sight of her made him forget about everything that was wrong in his life.

The sight of her, half naked, sleeping in his bed. In his arms. _His_.

Paige shifted into her sleep, moving to nestle into his chest; his arms instinctively coming to close around her frame. As the blanket slid down her midsection, due to her sudden movement, Mike pulled it back up to cover her bare skin; his protective side kicking in.

She mumbled something against his shoulder and he couldn't help but smile: cute Paige was definitely the funniest thing to watch; she was so different compared to her usual self.

He reached down to leave a kiss on her bare shoulder. Dragging his lips up her neck, he kissed his way up to her lobe.

"Wake up, sweetie. It's breakfast time." Mike whispered into her ear, jokingly.

He felt her stirring into his arms and her eyelids fluttered open, tickling his chest. When she looked up at him, she literally took his breath away: if he had thought he had been in heaven when he had watched her sleep, now he was sure he was.

Her doe eyes, staring back at him, shining with newfound energy, were his _paradise_.

Paige cleared her throat.

"I hate you." She blurted out, before throwing herself back into his arms and laying her head onto his chest. Mike smiled, letting his fingers get tangled into her dirty blonde locks. He kissed the top of her head.

"Let's just sleep 'till the end of time…" She moaned, closing her eyes and relaxing under his tender gestures.

"I wish we could. I really do." He whispered, looking up at the ceiling.

She slid her hand under his t-shirt, in need of a skin-to-skin contact. They stayed like that, in their little bubble, for what felt like hours. None of them wanted to let go nor to say anything, too afraid that it'd made the magic go away.

Mike twirled her hair around his fingers, his eyes never leaving the grey color above them.

He wanted to stay like that forever: she felt soft and warm against him, her scent surrounded him and made his room feel like a total different place. It was like their own world; a world he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to go out that door and face reality: he needed his job, of course he did; but he'd just realized that he needed Paige too, more than he had originally thought, and this situation he was in now was slowly tearing her away from him.

"You know you're not a mistake, Paige." He said, firmly.

She sighed against his skin and kissed his pec.

"I know, Mike. You don't need to say anything. Let's just forget about it."

"No, I mean it." He dropped his hand from her head to her back, sliding it up and down; the clasp of her bra being the only rough thing under his touch, her skin being so silky and smooth.

"I might regret certain things, but I could never regret you. This isn't a mistake, this is us. I'm fucked up - really fucked up, but you're the only thing I'm sure of right now."

Mike waited for his words to sink in and to hear her reply, but it didn't came. Worry on his face, he moved awkwardly, trying to get away from her and hide in the bathroom: he had just made a fool out of himself. '_Damn you, Warren. Why do you always have to sound like a girl?_'

When he tried to shift, though, Paige's grip tightened on him: she didn't move, but her fingers dig deeply into his flesh, making him stop dead in his tracks. Looking down at her, he moved her hair out of her eyes, revealing a beautiful, blushing face. She looked up at him, slowly, gently.

"My heart's racing, Mike." She whispered, bringing one of his hands up onto her chest, right between her breasts: he could feel the fast _thumping_of her heart under his palm and a proud, soft smile spread onto his face.

"Oh, Paige…" He leant down and captured her lips into a tender kiss.

Their lips fused together and hands roamed all over, as Paige pushed him down onto his back, straddling him; one leg on each side of him.  
>His hands grasped her hips, as their kiss became more and more fierce; lips kissed, tongues played, teeth nibbled.<p>

As they both gasped for air, Paige moved down his neck, torturing his skin with sensual bites. She reached the spot under his chin: his weak spot.

Mike's breath itched. He released a throaty moan in her ear: kissing her shoulder, he held her tight to him. She pulled away slightly just to wrest his t-shirt eagerly off of him, as she kissed her way frantically down his body.

The room suddenly felt way too hot for Mike, whose breathing quickly became heavy. He looked down at her: he could only see her head of blonde curls moving downwards, feeling her wet, soft lips burn like fire against his skin; he reached down to pull her hair back, as he let his head fall against the mattress and his eyes fluttered closed.

Mike's eyes shot back open when a loud knock echoed through the room: the door was open.

He almost pushed Paige off the bed, trying to get up fast enough to stop the intruder - yes, intruder, because whoever it was, they were robbing him of his private and intimate time with her. As if it weren't impossible already to have some privacy in the house.

However, when he locked eyes with Paige, he felt his body relax: her shining eyes and bright, malicious smile said it all; as smart as she was, she had closed the door when she had slipped into his bed in the middle of the night. Mike smiled back at her, a funny expression on his face; he fondled her cheek, as she leaned her elbows onto his stomach and propped her head up on her hands.

"Mike? Mike? You awake?"

Johnny. He wanted to strangle the guy.

"Yeah, man. Thanks to you! What's up?" He replied, pissed off. He didn't need to fake, though: he really was pissed off. He was going to need a very long, cold shower now, _thanks to him_.

"Chuck and I are going out, you wanna come?"

Mike rolled his eyes, in disbelief: he had just interrupted in vain what would have been the best good morning of his entire life - the kind of good morning he had dreamt of each night when he had been a horny, sexually inexperienced teenager.

"No," he said through clenched teeth, not missing Paige's funny expression as he stared back at her. "_Thanks._"

He heard Johnny bounce off his door and towards the stairs, his voice turning away.

"Whatever man, don't know whatcha missin'!"

Mike didn't bother to reply, as he heard the front door shut downstairs and he released an annoyed breath, throwing his head back and rubbing his hands down his face.

"Fuckin' asshole. I need a freaking cold shower now!"

Paige rolled off of him, laughing. She patted his stomach and leant down to kiss his lips tenderly, but mockingly.

"Have fun with that." She giggled, getting up and reaching down on the floor to collect her discarded clothes.

As she bent down to pick her shorts up, she felt Mike's hands pull her back against him by her hips: he kissed her shoulder, biting her skin softly, and she smiled, rubbing his hair. His cute, adorable and weirdly sexy bed hair.

"You're not going to join me?" He purred into her ear. She felt _him_ against her backside.

"Mhm," Paige moaned, as his lips closed around her pulse. "As tempting as that sounds, I have an undercover operation to close today, with Zelanski… I need to get ready" she whispered back, trading her fingers through his hair.

"I swear that guy's obsessed with you."

Mike bit her lobe, tracing patterns on her hips. If he didn't let her go within the next few minutes, she'd probably give in and throw all her work from the past few months out the window. She pushed his hands off of her, prying herself from his warm embrace, unwillingly.

He looked at her, sheepishly, raising his hands up.

"On my defence, you're walking out of my room half naked and leaving me after you've just given me blue balls!"

Paige tried to keep a straight face, acting as if she were mad, before she burst out laughing.

"Blue balls? Seriously?"

Mike nodded, slowly bringing himself up to stand in front of her, readjusting his boxers. He took her hands, bringing one up: he watched as their palms rested against one another, her hand fitting perfectly against his, although being slightly smaller.

Paige eyed him, curiously: since confessing the importance she had in his life, Mike had become more and more affectionate with her; behind closed doors, he had turned back into the softie, romantic guy he once was as a rookie, leaving behind the cocky attitude he had gained in DC.

"D'you wanna go out with me tonight?" He asked, nonchalantly. She raised her eyebrows, surprised.

"Out? As in… on a date?" Paige asked, nervously.

Mike nodded, kissing her fingers one by one.

"You could say that… yeah…" Pulling her flesh against his, he circled her waist and straightened his back, looking down at her. "Apparently, I have lots of free time now…"

Paige raised her hand to touch his face, brushing her palm against his stubbled cheek; she rubbed her thumb over his lower lip, giving him a reassuring stare.

"It'll be okay. You're an amazing agent, they'd be stupid to let you go like that."

"I wish you were right." He sighed, kissing her thumb.

She shook her head, taking his face between her hands and standing on her tip toes to look him closer and more firmly in his eyes. "I am, Mike. Trust me, okay? Don't you ever feel like you're not enough, 'cause you're the best FBI agent I've ever worked with. After Briggs."

Paige's words were meant to be serious and hard, but they surprisingly brought a smile onto his lips. It was a side smile, but he showed his white teeth for a brief moment: '_that's good_,' she thought.

"After Briggs."Mike nodded, giving into her.

Smiling, Paige wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him; he leant down, caging her into his arms, in desperate need of contact. The fight they had had the morning before had been quickly forgotten: all the things he had said - and that she had misinterpreted- had been thrown away along with his first furious reaction. Now, with her into his arms, he knew he could do something about this, instead of crying and depressing over it. '_Or punching the wall_,' he thought, as he looked down at his damaged hand resting on her back.

Mike kissed her cheek, as he slid his hands lower and pulled back slightly enough to look at her without breaking their embrace.

"I know we can't really go out. But you know… there's nothing wrong in two friends watching a movie together, at home… let's say… 9ish?"

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, but Paige knew he had high expectations for her to say yes: truth is, she wasn't sure about this. She was really trying to adjust to this whole new thing going on between them; yes, they had agreed to being exclusive and see how it went from there, which basically meant they were eventually going to start an official relationship and go public.

And that involved dates, flowers, chocolates and all the usual stuff.

Okay, bull. They both knew they'd skip the flowers and chocolates part. They were federal agents, not some stupid high school IT couple - although she wouldn't have minded a nice box of chocolates, especially if they were pralines. But still, this whole dating idea made her nervous and weak to her knees.

She rubbed his arms gently, biting her lip.

"Are you sure about this? What will the others say?"

Mike shrugged her off.

"They won't say anything. We'll be just two roommates civilly watching a movie and having fun. It's not like we're going to rip each other's clothes off right there, you know." He joked, rubbing her hips.

"Although, if you keep wearing _this_ stuff underneath…" Mike trailed off with a mischievous grin, as he motioned at her lingerie with appreciative eyes.

Paige chuckled as she escaped his hold and walked away from him with her clothes, leaving him with no answer. He bit his lip, worried he might have gone too far.

As she unlocked the door and walked out, she turned around, clutching her clothes to her chest and sending him an evil grin.

"Maybe I won't wear anything at all…" she watched as his eyes widened and he gulped down, his mouth suddenly dry. She winked at him, before running back to her room to avoid anybody who could see her escaping from there. "Bye Mike."

Mike was left there, in the middle of the room, half naked. The thought of Paige, walking around all day with no underwear, running through his mind. Images of the previous nights they had shared into her and his bed came rushing back to him.

'_I need a __freezing __shower. __Now._'


	8. Nobody puts Paige in a corner

**Hello everyone! Thanks for reviewing, reading and favoriting, as always! I've got a few things to say: first of all, I apologize for this chapter's length, but I'm going on a 3 day trip with my group of friends before NYE and I don't know if I'll have wi-fi there. Hence, I don't know if I'll get to update (but I'm bringing my laptop anyway to back up all the photos I'll take, so if I get the chance, I'll keep posting the chapters I've already written). **

**Secondly… HAPPY NEW YEAR! (In case this might be my last 2014 update lol).**

**Enjoy!**

**- xo, Mel**

Mike had always been the kind of guy who'd go crazy when he had nothing to do. He'd always organize his days perfectly, ever since he had begun going to school: he'd do all his homework on time, in order not to fall behind; when he had reached middle school, he had developed a great sense of responsibility, which had made him look like a freak to his schoolmates. He'd organize his days between homework, club meetings and, occasionally, family get togethers. It's not like he didn't want to spend time with his peers, he simply couldn't find anybody else as of a perfectionist like himself: they would all fall behind with the important stuff, preferring the fun.

Clearly, the rule of not putting off 'till tomorrow what you can do today didn't work for them as well as it did for him.

Then, throughout all high school, he had made of "duty before pleasure" his personal motto and it had lasted until he had graduated from Quantico and finally got his dream come true.

The same dream that was about to be taken away from him.

That's why he was now suffering this incredible feeling of boredom: something he was not familiar with. At all.

He had been in the shower when Paige and Zelanski had left the house, washing off the '_excitement_' her kisses had caused him. They had been the last ones to leave. So, when he had got out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around his waist, he had realized he was alone, with absolutely nothing to do.

Mike had to confess he had actually thought about giving Paige a call and ask -no, _beg_ her- to let him come along; the thought had soon left his mind when he had realized that it would have put her career in danger: letting a suspended agent get involved into a case wasn't exactly the smartest move to make if you wanted to shine in the federal field.

Therefore, he had had no chance other than trying to stop _thinking_ by _doing_ something.

He started by cleaning his room, which only took him 5 minutes, since it was a routine thing he did almost everyday; he thought about tidying Paige's room up too, but she probably would've eaten him alive had she found out he had gone through her stuff; moving downstairs, he spent a whole hour cleaning the kitchen. He was pretty sure Charlie was going to come up with a sauce night soon, so she sure as hell would have appreciated finding the place clean and tidy - something that would have also earned him an extra portion of sauce, hopefully.

As he scrubbed the last dirty spot on the counter, he glanced at the clock, realizing it was lunch time. Not wanting to mess everything up again, he opted for a quick run to Hector's - which took a good 40 minutes with the longer way; something that helped with his boredom.

Mike waited in line to get his food, while his mind started planning his upcoming _date_ with Paige: thanks to the free afternoon - the first of many, apparently- he was going to be able to organize and set up the whole thing perfectly. Although, he couldn't really make it as big as he wanted to, considering their roommates would be around too.

'_The less, the better_' he thought. But he wanted that _less_ to be great for her.

That's why, after he had finished his lunch, he found himself strolling around the stands on the beach, going through that boho and hippie stuff Paige seemed to be crazy for.

He smiled, as he saw a particular piece of jewelry that reminded him exactly of Paige. Without thinking twice, he got closer to the stand and took it into his hands: it was a plain leather string with two black laces at each ends; one only gem right in the middle. It was simple, yet beautiful. Just like her. '_Mike Warren, you're officially whipped.'_

He rubbed his thumb over it, its green color reminding him of a certain pair of doe eyes.

"That is just perfect for a pretty girl." Mike jumped at the sound of a female voice coming from behind; turning around, he came face to face with an elderly woman: her features and her clothes made it loud and clear that she was a native. Or at least, she descended from natives.

"How do you know it's for a girl?" He asked.

The woman pointed to his hands, putting down a box. "Your touch is loving and tender. Unless you prefer other _things,_I'm pretty sure there's a girl involved. Judging by your eyes…"

Mike looked down at his hands, eyeing the piece of jewelry and rubbing it between his fingers absentmindedly. "My eyes?" He asked, not really paying attention to the woman; his mind wondering over Paige.

"I watched you before. They were sad, but when he saw that… they shone." She said, taking the bracelet from him.

That seemed to have caught his attention, as he instantly looked up at her, puzzled.

She reached behind his back to take another identical one, but with a different stone: a turquoise one. She handed it to him, shaking her head.

"I think this one might work better for you."

He examined it in his hands, turning it around, trying to figure out why she had gave him another one. "What difference does it make? They're identical." He pointed out, glancing back at her for a brief moment: the color had nothing to do with Paige, although he couldn't help but be intrigued by it. Somehow, he felt it had some kind of connection to her.

"Turquoise is life to the natives and I'm pretty sure this girl has you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she?"

Mike's face reddened and he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Not really, I- We've just only started seeing each other and it's- kind of complicated… I don't want to propose or anything. Hell, I don't even know what we are right now…" He trailed off, his own words sounding weird to his ears.

They lived together, they slept together, shared intimate moments; yet, neither of them knew what they exactly were. All they knew was that they were _exclusive_. That was all they had been able to set about their relationship; no other rules. Mike knew Paige needed time and he was okay with it. Or at least, he would act like he was until she had her mind set about what would be of the two of them. '_If this isn't complicated, I don't know what would be._'

"You don't have to get married to show somebody how important they are. It's never too early or too late, young man."

As she said that, Mike thought about just one thing: Paige. He looked down at his hands.

Turning his attention to the lady, who stared at him in an almost motherly like way, a smile spreads onto his face: he knew exactly what to do.

**X**

Paige slammed the door of Paul's car shut, as she got out as fast as she could, running towards the main entrance.

"What the hell, Paige? Briggs is going to kill me!" Zelanski screamed after her, checking the door for any sort of damage.

"Whatever!" She waved him off, too busy trying to fit the right key in the lock. As soon as the right one clicked, she bursted it open, not bothering to close it behind her.

The operation had taken longer than she had previously predicted, due to the drug dealer being more late than usual: he always arrived 5 or 10 minutes later than the time they would set because he took different roads, in order not to be recognized by cops or people that were probably following him. He was paranoid; but given the circumstances, he had every right to be.

However, when Paige had finally ended the thing and indicated Zelanski to come in with the team, she hadn't realized he had brought company: he ran outside, where an awaiting car sped him away. That had led to a car chase that had only ended after 40 minutes and tons of destroyed public properties. Of course, that had implied more paperwork and a small scold from Clarke - even though he had only felt like he _had_ to, seeing as she had always been on his good list.

_That_ had made her late. So late for her date with Mike: it was 10.30 PM and she was sure he was going to be beyond pissed.

She rushed through the living room and past the kitchen, where she had heard voices coming from - most importantly, Mike's. He was at the sink, washing something, as Paul and Johnny talked about what apparently were the upcoming basketball play-offs.

She threw a quick glance in his direction right in time to see him throwing his head back, laughing out loud. He was soon followed closely by the other two leaning on the counter.

Briggs was the first to notice her. "Why, there she is, our lady in white!" He joked. "You missed the curfew."

Paige shrugged, her eyes not leaving Mike's back, as he tensed up and lowered his head. He didn't even turn around to look at her. She felt her stomach churn.

"I had a very busy and rough day at work, you guys should try sometimes." She crossed her arms, smiling tightly at them. She pointed upstairs. "If you don't mind, I'll go freshen up a little."

She needed to get away from them and from _him_. At first, she had thought about apologizing, but now?

'_Screw_ _him_,' she thought as she stormed up the stairs to her room, angrily.

He hadn't made a move to greet her or look at her; hell, he hadn't even acknowledged her presence. Okay, she was late. But it's not like it had been her fault.

She slammed the door closed, breathing through her nose and tried to gain her calm back. Mike had seriously pissed her off with that attitude.

Rolling her bracelets off her wrists, she used her own feet to slide her ankle boots off, wiggling her fingers: the soft carpet feeling much more comfortable under her bare feet.

Paige was about to untie the back of her white dress, when she heard a light tap on her door.

She turned just in time to watch it being quietly opened and closed in less than a sec: Mike stood right in front of her, a grey sweater and black jeans on; arms crossed and a hard expression on his face.

"You're a horrible person, you know that?" He blurted out, his chin up. Paige's face fell: she looked speechless at him, trying to understand if she had just imagined those words or if they had actually come out of his mouth. Probably the second option.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me right now?!" She raised her voice. "I had a case that-"

She was cut off by his lips crushing on hers, silencing her: he cupped the back of her head with one hand, deepening the kiss, while his other hand pushed her forcefully into him, almost making her lose her balance; she caught herself by grasping his shoulders, her head titling back as he devoured her lips.

He pulled away an inch. "Don't. Ever. Do. That. To. Me. Again". He stated, punctuating each word with a kiss. Nibbling on her lower lip, he slid his hand from the back of her neck to rest between her shoulder blades; the bare, silky skin shivering under his touch.

"You've been gone for so long, I started craving you so badly… it drove me insane." He murmured against her lips, huskily, while she tried to regain her breath - and frankly, her mind.

As Mike touched his forehead to hers, she slid her hands down his chest; his breath tickling her swollen lips.

"I thought you were mad at me for ruining our date…" she confessed. "Are you?"

Mike chuckled, pecking her lips. "You crazy? Of course not. It's just a movie, Paige… do you really think I'd be mad over something like that?"

Her face reddened: she was slowly losing her touch and becoming an overly sensitive and maniacally sweet girl to date; something she had never been. '_The many effects of Mike Warren…_'

"You seriously need to stop laughing at me!" She hit his chest, pushing him backwards.

He shook his head, smiling and grasping her hand to pull her away with him. She looked at him quizzically.

"What are you doing?"

Mike shrugged.

"The night's still young and I believe we had a date?" He tugged at her hand, reaching behind him to open the door. "C'mon, we only have to put the movie in."

Paige let herself fall against his chest, as she laid her hand against the door and pushed it back closed; when Mike curiously looked at her, she eyed him with a mischievous grin.

"I _believe_ someone talked about _cravings_…" She ran her finger down his torso, biting her lip before Mike's mouth came crushing back on hers.

**X**

This wasn't exactly how Mike had imagined it, but it was still nice.

After a make out session he'd define as mind blowing -just like everything else involving Paige-, they had finally moved downstairs to enjoy the movie he had chosen for their _date: "The evil dead"_. Honestly, it had been part of his strategy: picking up a horror movie in order to get touchy with the girl; it had always worked and he had been sure it would have worked with her too. Of course, she was a DEA agent and saw the worst possible things, but she was still a girl. A badass girl, but still a girl.

Boy, had he been wrong.

Since the movie had started, she had not once glanced at him, she was so into it.

He had ordered tofu, rice balls and her favorite fried spicy vegetarian beef: he hated those things, but since Paige had always told him she was a sucker for Chinese stuff, he had been more than willing to sacrifice himself for a night just to make her feel special.

What hadn't been in his plans, though, was for Johnny to actually sit there with them and eat _their_ stuff: he thought it would have kept him away, but apparently that was another thing he had been wrong about.

Luckily, he had got more than enough for the whole house. Because that's exactly what had happened: Johnny had called Zelanski, who had called Jakes, who had screamed for Briggs, who had come down with Charlie.

And now, the chance of checking if Paige had actually kept her promise and worn _nothing_ underneath seemed to be anything but a mirage.

He leaned back on the couch, sighing and trying to focus on the movie; Paige was sitting beside him, legs crossed, leaning over her plate as she chewed on her last pieces of fried beef. When she finished, she mimicked him and her back hit the sofa. Their eyes met for a brief moment and he gave her a small smile, before they both went back to stare at the screen.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, making everybody jump as a particular full of tension scene took place in the movie. Mike reached over to grab the remote and still the movie; Zelanski got up, running over to open the door, a fork in his mouth and plate in hand.

He choked, letting the fork fall down into his plate, as he greeted their guest: Jessica.

"Good evening…" she trailed off, as she looked weirded out at the DEA agent. "Am I… interrupting something?"

Mike tensed, looking over at Paige apologetically.

She shrugged, waving at the agent. "Hi, Jessica." Getting up, she went to greet her.

Mike eyed the two, furrowing his eyebrows: what kind of game was she playing? She had always disliked Jess and found every possible excuse to spend as little time as possible in the same room as her. Something was wrong. He hadn't even finished thinking that, that the most unexpected words came out of Paige's mouth, shocking not only him, but the whole house.

"Not at all, we were just having a movie night. Wanna join in?" Paige smiled warmly at the AD.

Charlie looked at Briggs nervously. Johnny and Wayne raised their eyebrows looking at each others, as Jakes pulled Bates's arm to make him sit down, not wanting to miss the scene.

Jessica considered going back to her hotel and just give Mike a call. She turned her eyes on him, watching him fidgeting in his place on the couch: his eyes seemed calm and relaxed, but she knew deep down he was worried about this. And he was still mad at her, for sure.

Reconsidering the DEA agent's offer, she let her bag down on the coffee table and smiled back, taking the plate she was offering. "Actually… yeah, I'd love to take my mind off things for a while."

Paige turned around, going back to her place next to Mike, sending a grin into his direction. "Perfect, have a seat!" She said, cheerly.

Mike incinerated her with his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?" He whispered harshly, loud enough just for her to hear.

"Taking revenge." She whispered back, a proud and challenging look into her eyes that actually scared him quite a bit. He thought they had forgot about everything but, apparently, he had been the only one thinking that: he wasn't sure _what_she was punishing him for, but whatever it was he damned himself for ever doing it.

Truthfully, Paige just wanted to mess with his head and see where he was willing to go to show her Jessica was nothing but a fling. A _past_ fling. Because if she had any doubt he was sleeping with her again, she would have to hurt him. Hurt him real bad.

They had agreed to be exclusive and it had to stay that way. At least, until/if he went back to DC.

Plus, he still had yet to pay for that hurtful mistake thing he had said the day before. She had forgiven him, but she still wanted to make him suffer a bit because of it, just in case it crossed his mind again.

As Jessica sat down on the other side of him, Mike adjusted himself on the couch, nervously hitting the play button.

Paige smiled at him childishly and popped a piece of tofu in her mouth, as he met her eyes when he fell back on the cushions.

**X**

The movie was at its last few scenes, when Mike glanced around him with what seemed to be a smart thought on his mind.

He checked if anybody was looking at him and, only to realize all the eyes were glued to the screen. He faked a yawn, slowly bringing his arm on the back of the couch; right behind Paige's shoulders.

As she felt his sudden movement, she smiled at herself, looking at him with the corner of her eyes: he was acting normal, like nothing had changed; his eyes still on the screen. But she could clearly see the hidden smile at the corner of his lips.

Without letting anyone notice, she scooted herself closer to him: her side fitting perfectly with his. She relaxed against him and felt him shifting to lean imperceptibly against her.

They might have not been able to have their date as two normal people, but that kind of contact made up for everything: it was simple, yet special; because it was hidden and only visible to the two of them, in their own bubble. Even though all their friends and boss were around them.

Even though their boss had noticed _that_.

Jessica had felt Mike move, but she had chosen to ignore it: she was sitting up straight right next to him, legs crossed and plat neatly held into her hands. On the contrary, Paige had promptly put her feet up on the coffee table, boldly relaxing in a non-lady like way.

She had figured that because of their positions, Mike hadn't had much space left and needed to stretch himself: she hadn't thought that he would have used the old yawning trick to make a move onto that DEA blondie right under her eyes.

As she tried not to let that bother her, she had completely ignored the last scenes in the movie. She let her focus go back to it, when suddenly a spirited Ash Williams covered in blood appeared onto the screen along with a big rising of the soundtrack.

Jessica jumped back slightly, holding onto Mike's leg. His eyes shifted briefly to her hand: he debated over pushing it away, but chose to act indifferent instead.

He was already in trouble with the bureau, he didn't need to put Jess against him too. After all, there was no harm in ignoring an innocent touch, was it?

However, what Jessica had in mind was less than innocent, apparently: she kept her eyes focused on the last few minutes of the movie, but her hand slid up higher onto his thigh.

His mouth went dry. This was _no good_.

Thankfully, when the credits came up on the screen, Charlie quickly turned on the lights and Jessica's hand shot away from his leg.

Mike breathed a sigh of relief, turning around. He froze into place: he hadn't seen her per se, but he had caught Paige's eyes quickly moving from his leg to his face.

She had seen _everything_.

He was about to open his mouth, when she plastered a smile on her face and got up. She neared Charlie, who was cleaning up all the mess they had made. "Need any help, Chuck?"

"Oh God, thank you! See?" Charlie turned to Johnny, who had fallen flat on his back on the couch, pulling his hood on until it fell over his eyes. "She is nice enough to help!"

Kicking his feet, she moved to the kitchen, Paige close on her tail: Mike watched helplessly from the couch how her bare feet moved quickly to let her hide in the kitchen, to get her away from him. And to think all he had wanted to do was spend some time with her, _courting_ her.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, it was fun. We shall do that again sometime!" Briggs said, trying to cut the tension that had built up in the room. Jakes nodded absentmindedly from his spot on the couch, as he drank from his beer bottle.

On the other side, sitting down on the floor, Zelanski pointed at Jessica with his own beer, a thoughtful expression on his face. "So… what brought you here?" He asked, earning an annoyed look from Mike: this night had turned out to be just as bad without having to hear other bad news about his more than likely dismissal from the FBI.

The AD put her plate down on the coffee table, rubbing her legs up and down nervously, catching Mike's attention: he looked at her, puzzled, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

No.

It couldn't be.

'_You're an amazing agent, they'd be stupid to let you go like that_.'

Paige's words had echoed through his mind all day long and he had actually brought himself to believe them. If they turned out to be wrong, his world would just crumble before his eyes. Not only because his entire career would be destroyed and all the sacrifices he had made would be vain, but also because he doubted she would ever consider starting something serious with him if he got fired.

He grabbed Jessica's shoulder, making her look at him. Fixing his eyes into hers, he caught a glimpse of sadness. He swallowed hard, voicing that fear he had had since he had been removed from the case and suspended from his service.

"They fired me, Jess. Didn't they?"


	9. And lilly, she's trying to bloom

**Hola! I'll make it quick so not to bother you: it's 4AM here, I was only now able to connect to the wi-fi here. Anyway, I haven't had time to go through it and lessen my mistakes (let's face it, my writing sucks and I understand how bad it is for you to go through every chapter lol), so just ignore them, please? The songs I chose are actually two of my faves and I highly recommend them. I kept replaying them when I wrote this! I also made a reference to "American Graffiti" because it's a brilliant movie and I think it's the type of movie Paige would love (and that Mike would know, since he has no idea who Shirley Temple actually was, apparently lol). **

**Again, this is a PIKE centered story, so 95% of it will be entirely about them. I'll have other characters around as a support; also, the plot is based on their feelings (as for now, I'm making Paige a lot more human than how she turned out to be at the end of season 2 and more like she was at the actual start, when she seemed to be SO into Mike). **

**That said, enjoy this outburst of PIKE fluff and let me know what you think ;) **

**- xo, Mel**

**X**

'_Meet me at the beach, 5 mints?_"

'_On my way_'

Paige peaked her head out of the door to see if the coast was clear, before making a run for the stairs: she didn't want to be caught sneaking out at 1AM; everybody in the house was already sticking their nose in her business, if they saw her escaping from _his_ room at this time of the night, they would have never let her get away with it.

Especially Briggs, since he had already caught them once: she had never been so thankful for her puppy dog eyes skills; thanks to her pout she had been able to convince him not to spill the beans and let them take their time to come clean. _If _they were ever going to tell anyone about them.

She silently made her way downstairs, ducking behind the wall when she heard footsteps nearby; when nobody appeared, she quickly tip toed her way out on the beach. Her arms wrapped instinctively around herself, as the night chill air left goosebumps all over the skin exposed by her white, cotton dress and Mike's lean frame came into view: he was standing on the shore a few feet away from the dying remains of a bonfire, looking at the ocean, with his pants rolled up to his knees.

Paige approached him slowly, her feet sinking into the wet sand as she neared him.

"Hey," she greeted him, still hugging herself tightly.

"Hey," he turned around and smiled brightly at her. As he did that, she wasn't sure if the shivering came from the chillness or the warm feeling that creeped up her stomach.

Ignoring that thought, she stood next to him and dug her eyes into the darkness of the ocean: just like him, she liked getting lost in her thoughts during nights like this. It was relaxing and made even the hardest days seem like a distant memory.

A gust of wind blew over them, ruffling her hair all over the place; she ran a hand through her locks.

Mike softly blocked her wrist, stilling her movements; she looked at him, puzzled, as he put a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear and run a finger over cheek. His lips felt gentle and loving when he lightly pecked her lips, so briefly that she thought she had imagined it.

"You cold?" he whispered on her lips.

Paige wondered why he was being so silent, but strangely, she liked it. It made everything seem so secretive and just between the two of them, as it should be. It was actually nice to feel him on the same page as her for once, seeing as he was always hinting at telling the others about their 'exclusive thing'.

He didn't even wait for her to reply that he had slid his hoodie off and stood behind her to cover her shoulders; she felt his EarPods hitting her thighs as they dangled from the iPod he most likely was hiding in the pockets. He hooked his arms easily around her waist and rested his head on her shoulders, enjoying the moment.

She closed her eyes. His body warmth made the butterflies in her stomach go crazier than usual.

It felt so weird: when they had started this, she hadn't even had them; she had been so carefree and secure about this. But then he had slowly made his way under her skin and took her by storm.

"I should be mad at you for that stunt you pulled before with Jess. Furious, pissed, actually." His chin hit repeatedly against her shoulder bone as he spoke. "But I just can't bring myself to; I'm way too relieved this whole situation's over. I can't wait to go back on the field."

Paige run her fingers on the back of his hands resting on her stomach, turning her head to look at him: his blue eyes shone with newfound happiness and excitement that made her heart melt. She loved how passionate he was about his job, because it was exactly how she felt about hers.

"I can't wait to have you back on the field too." She confessed; her eyes flicking to his lips almost instantly. His mouth came close to hers.

"Good." That one word lingered in the air, as he tickled their lips together, teasing her, before she pressed her mouth on his; it didn't take long for them to deepen the kiss, as Mike cupped her cheek and tasted her.

When they broke apart, he rested his forehead on hers for a brief moment and she relaxed into his arms, sighing contentedly. "So, when are you going back?"

"I don't know yet, I have to be at the headquarters tomorrow at 10. But now I can stay here feeling like I actually belong here. Like I have a reason to be here." He cringed, realizing what he had just said. "Not that you're not a re-"

Paige laughed, slapping her hand on his mouth.

"I know what you meant, Mike. Stop overthinking things. You worry too much."

Mike hid his face in the crook of her neck, a goofy grin on his face, as her fingers slid to the back of his head and played with his hair. His teeth sunk gently into the curve of her neck, making her bite her lip.

"We should really continue this inside, before… before…"

Paige actually forgot for a brief moment what she had meant to say when his lips trailed up her skin and wrapped around her pulse.

A moan escaped her lips, as the feather like touch of his previous kisses left droplets of fire on her neck.

When he pulled away, he looked down at the red love bite already showing on her golden skin, satisfied with his work. He turned her around into his arms, smiling cockily when she saw the haze on her face; she wrapped her arms around his waist, scratching his back; a mischievous look suddenly appeared in her eyes and Mike felt the ground disappear from under his feet.

She had never needed to do much to seduce him, considering he was so attracted to her that he'd find anything she did sexy enough to turn him on, but the look she was giving him, along with the messed up hair, short white and -he had only just realized- slightly see through dress and the moonlight shining on her skin, made his whole body hot.

All he wanted to do was to take her in his arms and rush back to either his or her room.

He halfheartedly forced himself to push the thought away, reaching behind his back to grab her hands and gain as much space as he could between them: he wanted to do things right with her.

Paige furrowed her eyebrows, feeling rejected.

Before she could voice her disappointment, he gave her a dead stare and released her completely.

"No, I'm not giving up sex with you. I'm just trying to have our freaking date without people crushing it or you inviting them to - that was mean, by the way." Mike grumbled, crossing his arms.

She almost laughed at his offended face.

"Well, it was a _mistake_…" His eyes saddened, catching the sarcasm in her voice.

"Paige…"

"Okay, sorry! I admit it, it was mean. But you deserved it. And you should be thankful I let that little incident I witnessed before slide, because seriously Mike, I could hold sex from you for a month if I wanted to."

"You wouldn't dare," he snorted, kicking his head to the side.

"Try me."

"C'mon. You're fundamentally a nymph, you couldn't do that even if you wanted to."

She raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms too. "_Hands of an angel_, remember?"

Mike's face paled and he gaped a few times; images of Paige _warming herself up_ invaded his mind. She grinned victoriously, turning to go back towards the house when he caught her wrist and spun her around. She slammed into his chest, almost losing her balance.

"You didn't actually think I'd let her do _that_ to me, right? That thing with Jess is over, I swear."

Paige wanted to tease him, tell him that she would have loved to see him get touchy with his ex vanilla fuck buddy right in front of her - hell no, she'd shoot both of them, multiple times.

But the frightened look he was trying to hide was too much. She loved how he still had in him that adorable side from his rookie days and let it show just when they were alone; it made what they had even more special. '_And complicated_', she thought. When that happened, it was even more difficult to curb her instincts and resist the urge of getting lost into him.

"No… I know you wouldn't. I believe you." She said, looking down. Maybe she should've let him slip away and back into Jessica's arms: that stuck up blondie had actually something to give him, she could help him in ways Paige would never be able to. And what could she give him? Nothing but troubles. He wanted dating, a stable relationship, PDA. He was sure about what he wanted and had even made it clear to her during one of their late night talks. And what did she want? She wasn't even sure of herself right now, how could she be sure of what she wanted? Especially when his presence messed up with her emotions in ways she had never thought it would.

Mike slipped his hand into hers, lacing their fingers. She watched their hands fit together in such a perfect way, she wondered if that shit about the Universe having its own plan - the one Briggs always bragged about- had pushed them to get to this point.

When she looked up, he was smiling softly at her.

"Come with me," he winked at her, tugging at her hand and heading towards the ocean. When they reached the shore, the froth caused by the crushing of the waves creeped up their feet, making her squeal and hold onto him.

"Shit, it's so cold!"

Mike chuckled, holding her hip and squeezing her to his side.

"I'll warm you up," he breathed into her ear, as he felt her smile against his shoulder. His hand sneaked into the left pocket of his hoodie to pull his iPod out; he untangled his EarPods, holding one over to her.

Paige stared at him questioningly. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged, smiling smugly. "Having our date. C'mon, I'm being cheesy, hence I'm making a fool of myself in your eyes. The least you can do is go along with it."

Mike shook the dangling EarPod, waiting impatiently for her to take it. When she finally gave in, an amused smile ghosting over her lips, he pulled her close, wrapping one arm around her waist as he went through his iPod looking for a specific song.

"Now. I know you like old movies and I tried to get acquainted with some Fred Astaire stuff but…"

He took her hand, bringing it up to rest on his shoulder, and hit the play button.

Paige covered her face with her other hand as she heard the first notes to '_I only have eyes for you_' by The Flamingos blast into her ear. She tried to stop her giggling, but her shoulders kept shaking.

"You saw that American Graffiti poster in my room, didn't you?"

Mike nodded, biting his lip to stop himself from erupting in laughter too. Truth to be told, he had originally chosen '_When you smile_' by Louis Armstrong, being the only old, classic song he knew thanks to his mom's obsession with jazz music, but after what had happened with Jessica earlier, he had figured letting her know he had his sights set on her would have been the best move to make.

"Are you trying to tell me something, Mike? You want to get lucky tonight, don't you?"*****

When her laugh had died down, he slithered both his arms around her waist and pulled her close, so close she could feel his breath on her cheeks, as she lowered her hand and looked straight at his chest, not meeting his eyes: a weird tension had crept up between them and Paige could feel her guts tightening; for some reason unknown to her, she was suddenly feeling nervous. The light atmosphere between them had been replaced by a much more serious and -she had to admit- comfortably romantic one.

"Hold onto me…" Mike whispered, his breath tickling the side of her face.

He watched, as she tentatively slid her other hand up his chest and over his shoulder, holding onto his neck; their bodies fused together, perfectly, and she felt even closer to him than when they had been in bed, wrapped up in each others. They had been intimate many times now, but she had never felt this kind of intimacy.

It was new, fresh. And scary. Exciting, but scary. She didn't want to be the moth that comes to the lantern and gets burn.

As if he could actually read her thoughts, Mike kissed the spot behind her ear. "Relax," he whispered. "It's just me. Don't think, just… let it be."

Paige nodded, nestling into his arms as she hid her face into his chest, her lips pressed up against his clad pecs; she could feel the rhythm of his heart beating fast, matching her own; the melody slowly bringing her to ease into it and to start swaying slowly.

"I've never slow danced before…" she confessed.

She couldn't see his face, but she was sure he was smiling.

He actually did smile, eyes closed, as he enjoyed the feeling of having her into his arms. Just the two of them. '_Finally_', he thought.

"Not even at prom?" he asked. He felt her shake her head no. He stroked her hair, watching as her golden locks slipped between his fingers, silkily.

Mike slightly pulled away, enough to stare into her emerald orbs: he almost didn't recognize her, as she looked up so sweetly; the mischievous and flirtatious look he was used to was gone.

"I'm your first, then," he joked, pecking her lips softly. She nodded again, as she launched herself back into his arms, hiding her face.

"I feel so stupid,"

"Why? 'Cause you're dancing with me?" He asked, worried she'd push him away any time now.

"'Cause I'm acting like a bubbly, shy silly goose." She shook her head, moaning. "I'm not a fuckin' teenage prom queen, I'm a badass fed. I hate you, Mike."

Mike chuckled, kissing her head. The song slowly reaching to an end. He dragged his lips down her forehead and over her nose; leaving light kisses over her cheek, he reached her ear and wrapped her tightly into his arms.

Paige held her breath, as his lips brushed against the shell of her ear intimately.

"…_but they all disappear from view and I only have eyes for you_." He hummed softly, making those damn butterflies in her stomach go crazy all over the place.

Right now, she hated herself. She didn't want to be like this, especially over a guy. But she simply couldn't help it, she was too in now and it was too late to go back: she cared too much.

As another slow song came on -it was that stupid, cheesy '_beautiful song_' by James Blunt****** she used to hate so much but that right now seemed to fit the moment perfectly-, she felt him starting to pull away.

"You wanna go back upstairs?"

Paige let his words linger in the air for more than she had intended to, as she thought about her options: she could fake she hadn't enjoyed this and go back to his or her room to end the night like they'd both expect her to want to; or she could be true to herself and admit she had enjoyed this way more than she had initially thought. '_What's with him making everything feel better and right? Even the cheesiest things?_'

She smiled at him, shaking her head softly. She stood on her tip toes, pulling him back to her and laying her head on his shoulder, craving to be in their little bubble a little while longer.

"No. Let's… This is nice." She concluded.

Mike didn't object. His hands went to rest on her back again and he hid his face into her neck, laying a warm kiss there.

It was the best _non-date_, ever.

**X**

* "Are you trying to tell me something, Mike? You want to get lucky tonight, don't you?"

**Paige is referring to a scene in the movie where one of the main characters actually gets lucky with this song on the radio.**

****** it was that stupid, cheesy '_beautiful song_' by James Blunt

**Paige is talking about "You're beautiful", which I think you all know. I personally LOVE that song, but to me it felt like it'd be the kind of song Mike could possibly have on his playlist, but Paige? I don't think so.**


	10. Smoke and mirrors

**Hello! I posted an A/N to wish you a happy new year, but apparently it didn't get saved correctly. It's not much and not as long as the others (I had to make it shorter, in order for it to fit well with the following chapter), but here's my "present" for you. Enjoy & let me know your thoughts about it, hope you like it!**

**- xo Mel**

Paige was sitting on the bed, blue sheets loosely wrapped around herself, a bowl of fresh fruit -that Mike had gentlemanly retrieved for her from the kitchen in the early morning- sat between her legs.

"Seriously, you need to calm down before you give yourself a heart attack."

Mike rushed through the door and stood in front of her, two ties thrown over his left shoulder, as he buttoned his shirt up.

"I am calm."

Paige raised her eyebrows and pointed at his hands; he either was nervous or needed to practice in dressing himself up, whereas the two edges of his shirt didn't fit at all.

He rolled his eyes and proceeded to start his task all over again, sneering sarcastically at her.

"Okay, I may be slightly anxious, but only because this interview might decide the rest of my entire career. Which, by the way, was on a tightrope until last night and technically still is."

"Mike…"

He left the last few buttons undone and looked around himself, patting his pockets, frowning.

"So I'm sorry if I care about making an impression, since I don't want to end on the streets after not even two years of service - damn, have you seen my watch? I'm sure I had it on last night…"

"Mike!" Paige raised her voice, throwing a grape at him, abruptly catching him on the forehead.

He jumped, rubbing the spot where she had just hit him.

"What did you do that for?"

"You're freaking out. Just take a breath and come sit down." She told him, holding her hand out.

Mike wiped the stress out of his eyes, grunting.

"Right, right. I'm sorry." He grabbed the tip of her fingers and squeezed them lightly, flopping down next to her. She stretched her legs onto his thighs and his hands came up to massage her calves absentmindedly.

"It's just - it's not official yet, they could still change their mind. And what if I mess up today and they do change their mind?"

"Don't be stupid. You don't need to take so long with the primping. Jessica will be there and Clarke knows you, he knows how good you are at your job and his opinion won't change if you wear a black tie, instead of a blue one!" She said, motioning exasperatedly at the shimmering strips of fabric.

"So the black one, uh?" He interposed, only to look down after she glared at him.

Paige sighed, setting the bowl on the nightstand and sitting up, lunging forwards to gain his attention; she pulled his chin up.

"Stop worrying, Mike. I'm serious: you only need to go there and be yourself. It's the best thing to do." She pressed a soft kiss to his lips; he gave her ankle a squeeze.

"Thank you."

She released his face, pecking his lips one more time, and took the fruit bowl back into her hands. He slowly got up, sliding his jacket on and fixing himself in the mirror.

"You're free today, aren't you?" He asked, casually.

"Yeeeep." She popped the word out. "I got a tip about one of my leads, but you know how flaky these CIs are: all spin and no delivery. - You sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"No, it's fine. I need to do this on my own. - So, how do I look? Confident enough?"

Mike turned around in a swift motion and held his chest out, flattening his collar.

Paige checked him out, her eyes lingering way too long on his torso; the see-through fabric of his shirt giving her a nice view of his chest as she chewed on a strawberry.

"I can see your nipples." She pointed out. His jaw fell slightly and he waved her off.

"Oh, c'mon. Can't you be serious just this once?"

She let out a crystalline laugh, struck by his almost pleading cerulean eyes. She leant back onto the pillows, bending one leg. The bedding slid down her thigh and pooled on her groin, its path closely followed by Mike's eyes.

"Let's put it this way: if I didn't know this was so important to you, I'd be more than happy to take you down and have my way with you. Does that make it for you?"

He didn't reply, but kept staring at her and pocketed his phone. Swallowing, he rammed his eyes up her body until they bore into hers: she bent her other knee and grinned, as she popped a blueberry in her mouth.

"You just…" Mike took a step forward but soon caught himself, shaking his head and turning around towards the door. "I'm late!" He blurted out, hustling out of the room and fleeing down the stairs so not to let the image of her barely covered self stop him.

Paige's laugh echoed in his ears as he slammed the door behind himself.

**X**

Jessica gripped her bag's handle a little tighter than she had when they had entered the room, watching Mike shake hands with Clarke in a very professional way.

She was happy for him, she really was. Personal issues aside, Mike Warren was a really good agent and when he'd eventually let his hotheaded side cool down a bit and sharpen his edges, she was sure he'd make it big in the FBI.

However, she couldn't help but feel humiliated by the way he had proudly showed those two, red love bites on his neck, peeking through the opened collar of his shirt.

At a certain point, she had sworn the two men's conversation had shifted exactly to _that, _cracking inside jokes about it_. _She probably had imagined it, though, since she had diverted her attention from their talk as soon as she had seen the marks branded on his skin.

They walked side by side towards the exit, in complete silence.

Jessica knew she was being selfish: she had been the one who had told him they were just having fun, but she hadn't imagined that he'd find someone else so soon and throw her away like that. He could have showed her some respect at the very least. Especially after all the things she had done for him - including fighting with the Bureau when they had first suspended him.

She had been stupid to do that. Not even his friends would have done that. What the hell had gotten into her?

As they reached the parking lot, Mike opened his arms and threw his head back, breathing deeply; a fresh, bright smile on his face.

"God, it feels so amazing. I'm free."

Jessica shook her head and clicked the button to open her car; she tore the door open and threw her bag on the passenger seat. "It's not like you were in jail, Mike."

He looked at her and shrugged off. "Same thing." His stupid, cocky smile still showing.

Jessica rolled her eyes, hitching her skirt up to get in: she couldn't wait to get back to her hotel room and have a nice, long warm bath. She needed to relax and forget about all this: Mike Warren was just a young, self-absorbed kid who was so caught up in his own ego that he couldn't even take care of his career - or himself for the matter. If he had known what was good for him, he wouldn't be in LA, he would be in DC. He wouldn't be wasting his time trying to please Clarke, he would be trying to please the deputy. And yes, he wouldn't be sleeping with that blonde bimbo, he would be sleeping with _her_. She was the better choice, if he wanted to be successful.

Before she could sit down, she felt his hands sneak around her forearms, turning her around. He lazily ran his fingers over her skin, smiling sweetly.

If he thought she'd fall for that boyish grin again, he was totally wrong. The touch was nice, though. And so were his blue orbs staring down at her.

"Look… Thank you. I know you had to pull many strings to get me back on this case."

She furrowed her eyebrows, holding onto her car door.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, yeah… Had it not been for you, God knows if they'd even take me back in the FBI. So thank you." He shrugged, leaning closer to her. He was about to brush his lips against her cheek, when she pushed him back by his chest.

Jessica had dignity and pride; she wouldn't get another woman's leftovers, nor her merits.

"Mike… I don't know what you've got, but you've completely misunderstood. I did fight so that you could come back, but once they had told me no, I gave up."

His caresses on her arm slowly came to a stop, as he looked at her puzzled. She sighed.

"Look, I care about you, but not to the point of endangering my career and being the point man more than I should. I did push for it this time, but it wasn't my idea."

She could see Mike's mind working. She couldn't believe he had no idea of what had been going on with his blonde lover: how could it be possible that he hadn't noticed her slipping out of his bed that night, when she had come to her hotel room?

Considering their obvious intimacy, she had expected her to tell him straight away about her plans. But obviously, she hadn't.

"Wait… so… this - it wasn't you?"

Jessica smiled, finally prying his hands from her arms and looking up at him with a mischievous look.

"You got the wrong girl this time, Agent Warren."


	11. Wandering off down yonder

**Hello! This is more of a filler chapter. There are kind of PIKE bits here and there (which will be developed in the two following chapters btw). As you'll see, great part of the dialogues are taken mostly from ep.6 of season 2. But I COMPLETELY screwed them up and so I screwed the time. Enjoy and let me know what you think :)**

**- xo, Mel**

**X**

_The night before…_

Paige had been undercover so many times since she had started doing this job that she couldn't remember the exact amount of times she had been arrested and handcuffed.

"Ready to go home?"

She rolled her wrists, rubbing the faint red lines circling them. She propped herself up on the desk, throwing the handcuffs at Zelanski.

"Just a little tighter and you'd have cut off my circulation, Wayne."

He caught them halfway in the air, smiling sheepishly.

"Sorry, I'm used to big guys."

"On a professional level, I hope." Paige arched her eyebrow, as she took the cup of coffee he was handing her.

Zelanski's eyes ran up and down her body, appreciatively: everybody in the house knew she was off limits; not only because of the unfinished business with Warren that was pending since the day he had left, but also because she'd have your ass kicked so bad that your shit would have footprints in it, had you even tried to make a move on her.

Paige was basically a no touching kind of thing. But he could still look, right?

"I can show you, if you want?" He joked, juggling his handcuffs in the air, and playfully sent her a sensual look.

She chocked on her coffee, catching her cup before she could spill it on her clothes.

"You wish" Laughing, she hopped down, patting his shoulder. "No, seriously. Nice job. We make a good team after all, don't we?"

Wayne held his hand up and nodded, waiting for her to high five him.

As she did so, her eyes moved past him and caught something in the distance. He didn't know whether to turn around and see what had stolen her attention or act as if he hadn't noticed. Before he could make the choice though, she turned her eyes back to him.

He could clearly see the fake of her smile: she was trying to get rid of him.

"We're friends, right?"

He frowned, not getting where she was getting at.

"Friends? Well… we do live together after all. So, yeah. I guess that makes us friends?"

"And friends can count on each other, can't they?"

_… __or maybe she was asking him for help. _

Zelanski had always been kind of goofy and clumsy, but when it came to his job he would give all he had. He was a pro and there was no doubt he could tell when something bad was about to happen: that was exactly what he was feeling right now.

He crossed his arms. He hadn't known Paige for a long time, but he was sure that if she was turning to him, things had gotten a little too complicated for her.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

She looked around, checking if anybody was listening: this didn't look good.

Grabbing his elbow, she pulled him to her side and led him towards the exit, eagerly pushing him around the back of the building.

"Where are we going?"

Paige ignored him, as they reached the parking lot and pushed him through the old filing section's door.

The linoleum floor of the hall they had slipped into shone with dirt under the faint neon lights: the place had been abandoned for years now, since the FBI had moved the cop-record place to the top floor; it had been great at first because it had a better access and they wouldn't have to go out to go through the records, but right now it was _perfect_ for their mission.

"You can't say a word to anyone about this, Wayne." Paige stated, firmly squeezing his bicep as they came to a stop in front of a steel door. "Got it?"

Zelanski's face hardened. "Paige, what's going on?"

"Got it?" She repeated, her tone more demanding than before.

"I got it." He exclaimed. "Not even Mike? You seem to be cl-"

"_Especially_ Mike."

Her eyes searched his; the look she gave him made it clear this was no joke.

"I'll tell him when the time's right. I can't put him at risk even more than he already is." She murmured the last part, turning around to bang on the door.

Zelanski watched her shoulders go stiff. 'T_his ain't a good sign either_.'

When she moved from the opening door, a blonde figure came in sight and his mind almost exploded: AD Jessica Foster and Special Agent Paige Arkin stood side by side in front of him.

How was that even possible? He was pretty sure they couldn't stand each other and would rather die than collaborate together - it certainly had to do with the fact that the blonde had refused to get Paige a team, but he was positive Mike played a big role in their mutual hatred too.

A very big role, apparently, since he had never seen Paige send so many killing stares at somebody like she had with Jessica.

However, he hadn't known her long enough to be completely sure about that.

"I said intimidating." Foster eyed him, skeptically.

She remembered the guy from when she had surprised Mike at Graceland. At first, if it hadn't been for his muscles and guns, she would've guessed he had been a guest, not one of his roommates.

Paige casted a look back at Zelanski, shrugging and crossing her arms. "He's loyal, we can trust him."

"We better be able to or that's on you."

He hadn't cared to speak up until he saw the tense expressions on their faces. He dropped his arms at his sides and took a step closer. Maybe he wasn't that intimidating, but he sure as hell wouldn't get involved in something he most likely didn't want to be a part of.

He might be a cool dude, but he was no dumb.

He had a really bad feeling about this.

"What the hell's going on?"

Paige turned to look at him. Her green eyes stared into his almost pleadingly.

"You can't say anything about this-"

"To anyone, I got it. - What are we doing here?"

She rubbed her forehead, getting closer to him.

"You didn't tell him?" Jessica asked.

"I was just about to." She replied, never leaving his eyes. She grabbed his hands - had it been any other situation, he would have either freaked out or blushed about it, but right now it had made him even more nervous. She had never taken his hands, why would she do that now?  
>"If Mike or anybody in the house asks you why we're late, you just tell them it took more than we had planned, okay?"<p>

Zelanski frowned. "Why? We're gonna be late?"

Paige nodded, looking back at Jessica. The blonde AD shook her head, turning around and going back inside: the door remained open.

His eyes went from Paige to the door and then back to Paige. Squeezing her hands back, he tried to get her attention. It didn't get much for her to focus on him again.

"What's in there, Paige?"

**X**

This was wrong on so many levels. Zelanski would have expected anything but this.

Overall, he wouldn't have expected for the two women standing at his sides to be responsible for all of this.

Especially AD Foster. Paige was a badass, she could've stepped down at that level had it been really necessary, but Jessica? She had seemed such a stuck up from the beginning. He was having a hard time believing she was behind it all.

Now the secrecy, the place… it all made sense.

"Hey Lawrence. Did you get any rest?"

He watched as the man looked over at them and Paige walked closer, throwing his case folder on the table.

"No, I like my own bed, my own place. Where's my lawyer? You have no right to keep me here."

She shook her head, folding her hands in her lap. Jessica crossed her arms: she was clearly fidgeting; it was obvious this wasn't how she rolled back in DC.

"You don't need one. Officially, you've been released this morning. However, you're involved in a federal investigation, I assume your people are probably looking for you by now: we may not have enough evidence to keep you in but this is the safest place you can be right now."

Lawrence let out a raspy laugh, the sweat on his forehead trickling down the side of his face: they were in the middle of summer and those walls were made of steel. Heat and metal? Not a good combination if you wanted to stay hydrated.

"They can get you anywhere. If you think this place is safe, you don't know who the hell you're dealing with."

"Why don't you tell us who we're dealing with?" Zelanski interjected. If he had to be there super visioning, he might have as well taken part of it. After all, by seeing what the two women were doing and having not reported it, he was already deep down involved.

"Who are you?"

The man spat the words at him like venom; he was getting flustered and irritated. His chapped lips made him cringe: how long had they kept him in there for?

"I'm here to set you free." He took a step forward, but Paige's hand stopped him.

"I just have one question I need answered first." She demanded, her eyes never leaving Lawrence's.

"I told her everything, everything I know." He nodded towards Jessica, who took a seat at the other end of the table and set her hands down on the flat surface.

"Okay, okay. Why don't you start from the beginning? How do the buses work?"

"You know all about the buses."

"Indulge me."

Lawrence breathed through his nose; his eyes flipping from one agent to the other, before he let out a rather stressed sigh and started talking. His head hung low.

"There were two. Solano had a real bus waiting. It was duplicated down the scratches. It was set up to carry contraband, they loaded it up in Mexico, swapped into rotation, made its run up here, we downloaded it and sent it back."

Jessica nodded carefully, not missing one word of the information he was providing her: Mike had been right all along.

She knew he was good at his job, she knew there was some truth to what he had suspected back in DC and she also knew the deputy director had been a fool to smash his plan right away. That's why she had exposed herself so much to the point of taking the hit for him, just to get his plan going a little longer: when she had gotten in LA, she had started to regret her decision. And after the bus station had blown up? Even more.

But now she was thankful she had listened to him.

"And if anything got hot, you put the real bus back into circulation." Paige whispered to herself, turning around and walking towards the door, deep in her thoughts.

"That's it."

"Smart. - That night… who told you we were coming?" Wayne took her spot, getting harshly in the man's face.

"I got a call. They told me to blow the barrels."

"Who called?"

"Just a voice."

"No name?" Jessica inquired.

"No."

She now regretted attacking Mike the way they all had that night. He was right. Every suspicion, everything that had seemed to be just a consequence of the stress the explosion had put him through and of the failure he was going to face… he was right about everything.

"Mike knows Solano's got somebody on the Law Enforcement side." Paige shared a knowing look with her.

She nodded: they needed to get as much as they could from Lawrence, or this would have been all in vain.

They had agreed to do this for Mike, even though the girls had been the real good reason that had pushed Paige to plan everything. She had been skeptical about it at first, almost making a u-turn on the highway while she was driving to Jessica's hotel, but then she had decided to give it a go. _To get something that would put Mike back on the case._

If they didn't have that something, this would have been a total waste of time - not to mention that if the Bureau found out, they could both be suspended and stroke off the FBI until further notice. Hence, forever.

"Somebody out there's protecting him."

"What agencies was he with?" She asked.

"Look, I don't know anything. Alright? Solano kept everything compartmentalized. Need to know, that sort of thing. All I was told is he had some sort of ángel custodio Guardian angel."

"Someone is making sure that we can't tie any of this back to Solano. So you're all we have left." Jessica said, matter-of-factly.

"And I don't know shit."

The blonde AD gave a nod to Zelanski, who promptly skipped to the back of the room.

He held onto Lawrence's shoulders with one hand, his fingers digging into the fleshy muscles of his shoulders. Painfully.

His other hand went down to his handcuffs, grabbing the chain and dragging it upwards.

"What you doin'? What are you doing? I told you everything I know!" Lawrence hissed in pain.  
>"Have you?" Clenching his teeth, Zelanski pulled higher, pushing his face forward.<p>

The man yelped out, as his chest pressed painfully against the warm edge of the table. Jessica turned her face to the right, avoiding the scene.

"Yeah!"

"I don't know about that."

"How about the girls?" Paige kept her eyes fixed onto the man: unlike Jessica, she was used to stuff like this, having been under as the girlfriend of many merciless criminals - and having been herself one of the victims weeks before. She held her hand up, motioning Zelanski to stop so Lawrence could talk.

"I think it was Carlito's thing, I don't know."

She sighed and rubbed the scar on her hand: he wasn't making this easy.

"I don't think you quite understand the situation here. We're the only friends you have left. Everyone's gone."

Lawrence tried to look back at the DEA agent bending over his back.

"You said you'd set me free. Can I go now, please? I've told you everything I know."  
>"Right, you sure about that?" Zelanski nodded, tugging harshly on the chain.<p>

"Yeah." The man hissed back at him.

Jessica stood up, slamming her hands calmly on the table: she tried to put on a cold stare, but she was clearly not at ease. "Where are the girls?"

Situations like this one weren't exactly her thing and Wayne could see her body language making it quite obvious. She was used to offices, work ups and getting all the credit; she knew shit about the dirty work that really made the difference. The work that them agents did in the streets and that most of the time could even get them killed.  
>"I don't know."<p>

Paige clenched her fists, breathing in deeply. She changed her tone, lowering it. Her usually velvety voice became bitter, resentful. But calm. Too much calm. As if she were about to shoot.

"You know, you only get one shot at this Lawrence. You should use it well."

"I don't know."

"I need like an address, a name, a phone number. You know, something like that. Help me out. Where are they?" She asked again, bending over to look him in the face.

Jessica held her head up, eyeing the DEA agent carefully. She had agreed to this, but she had no jurisdiction. If anything happened, it would have been on her own conscience forever.

Paige sighed.  
>"These are girls, Lawrence. Remember Cindy? Your niece?" She watched as he widened his eyes. The black pupils were flooded with grief and remorses that had been buried deep down but that had never left his mind. She had struck a nerve. She just need to push that button until she got what she wanted. "How old was she when it happened? Uh? 4? 5? Guess what. Those girls are about the same age she would be now. They could've been her peers, her friends. Or worse, what if she had been one of them? Being pushed, kicked, slapped around? Sold to men who would've made her nothing but a sex slave? - You killed her once. Don't kill her twice by protecting those monsters."<p>

Jessica hugged herself. Her eyes went back and forth between the two, observing how each one of her words were calibrated to get a specific reaction.

She had always thought the obvious attraction Mike had for her came from an animalistic and carnal instinct of bedding her. She had thought she was just a whim of his and had even indulged it. But now, as a witness of her passion and determination, she knew that there was more to that.

He was attracted to her as a person and that kind of attraction - that _bond_, it was the strongest kind to break and get rid of.

"I don't know, I really don't know. Please." Lawrence pleaded.

"I don't believe you. - How long do you want to do this, uh Lawrence? Where are they?" Wayne jerked his arms all the way up, his knee pushing into his shoulders, as he leant it on the back of the chair to torture his fleshy back.

This time, both Paige and Jessica cringed at the painful shriek the man let out. Jessica turned all the way around, putting a hand over the side of her face; Paige squinted her eyes, trying to keep her hard posture.

"I don't know. No, no - I can call!" Lawrence screamed, his words muffled by the surface of the table his face had been smashed on by the sudden torturous movement.

"Call who?" Paige inquired.

"They won't talk to just anybody. You have to be introduced."

"And then what? We can buy our girls?" Zelanski eyed Paige, waiting for instructions. He wasn't enjoying this one bit; he wanted it over as much as the blonde AD shielding herself.

"Yes."

Paige turned to Jessica: her back was still facing the scene, but she had turned her head to peak at the DEA agents as soon as she had heard about the call. She had a painful expression on her face: she had to get out or she'd throw up all over the place.

"Make the call." She blurted out, taking her stuff and hustling out of the room, leaving them to deal with the rest.

Jessica had heard and seen enough. More than she had wished to and more than she could have handled. All she wanted to do now was to get back to the cognac bottle in her hotel room.

No, screw that. That sealed bottle of rum she had yet to open would be her companion for the night.

'_Things I do for you, Mike Warren._'

**X**

Zelanski held the door open for Paige as they exited the room; the man's cries for help dying down as the heavy steel door closed behind them. He leaned his back against it, closing his eyes.

He was used to stuff like this, but he _hated_ it: he wished they had given him another option; he wished she hadn't come to him for help.

But she had and in what world could he have ever said no?

"Cielo Motel, next Tuesday at noon. Room 4. He said to bring money, 20.000$ to walk away with the girl." Paige explained, as Jessica listened, not even paying attention to the pitiful looking man behind her interlocutor.

"What's the seller's name?" She asked, collecting a pen in her bag to scribble down some notes.

Paige followed her actions, her mind drifting back to Mike's annoying rookie habit - annoying, but cute. Apparently, they had a lot in common: DC, leader tendencies, Mike's newfound cockiness and, evidently, _this_. Working with your lover's ex-lover, who obviously still had a thing for him and wanted to screw him as bad as you did, was beyond stressing and all around worse than she had initially thought. It was distractedly _exhausting_.

"Sulla. He said there's a website too, where people can… well, browse." She handed the AD a piece of paper with the messily written IP address.

"What are we gonna do with him?" Jessica's eyes wondered over the door. She couldn't hear Lawrence, but the painful cries from 20 minutes before still made her skin crawl.  
>"We can't cut him loose, not now. We let him sit tight for a while and when this is all over, we drop an exit plan." Paige reasoned, as Zelanski's face frowned in shock: it was Saturday - the meeting was on Monday afternoon. Were they going to leave him there for almost three days?<p>

"Wait - that's it? We're leaving him in there? Just like that?"

She sighed, turning around.

"Wayne, we can't let him go now. Mike's going under, what if he goes straight to Solano? We can't risk his life."

"But you can risk this guy's? Paige! He's gonna boil in there!" He raised his voice, exasperatedly.

Jessica nodded, understandingly. She threw her bag on her shoulder.

"We'll get him water and food. Maybe even a fan, if we can find one - we've gone too far already, there's no need to make it worse." Looking Paige straight in the eye, she held her head high, making her exit. "I really hope this was all worth it, Agent Arkin."

Zelanski and Paige watched as she strode down the hall and out of the building: if they had had doubts about her integrity, they were all gone now.

They should have known she wasn't going to get blood on her hands and leave the man to his fate down there. She was too much of a DC goodie, she wouldn't play dirty.

She wouldn't spend the rest of her life with such a big loan on her conscience.

"Thank you." Paige's voice echoed in the empty hallway and bounced back to Wayne's ears; he pushed himself off the door to circle her and mimic Jessica's exit. He took a few steps, before turning back to her: his usual friendly and comic face was gone, reserving her a cold, hard stare.

"Let's go home." He stated, seriously.

"Wayne… I'm sorry." She tried.

She wanted to apologize. She wanted to let him know that she had had no choice at all, that she would have preferred not to force the information out of Lawrence's mouth. She really hadn't planned to: Jessica had told her to get somebody that looked intimidating enough to push the man to spill something, but it hadn't worked.

Maybe it was all her fault, she should have gone to Paul instead. But there was no time. It would've been easier for Paul to do what Wayne did, but it would have been even easier for him to go over the edge. To take one step too far.

She had played it safe with Zelanski: he was no Mike, but he knew what was wrong and what was right. A difference Briggs seemed to forget way too often.

He wouldn't have worried about Lawrence's life and the conditions they were leaving him in; he would have just walked away.

Zelanski shook his head, dismissing her.

"Just don't drag me into anything next time, okay? Even if it's for a good cause."

She nodded, moving to walk with him out of the building. Out of the place that had taken _one more piece of her soul_.

When they reached the door, he held it open once more for her: as she passed him, he snickered.

"Even if it's for the sake of your and Warren's_ future children_."

Paige smiled sarcastically, refusing to even glance at him. She simply did what felt the natural thing to do: bending her arm, she elbowed him hard in the ribs, making him cough and take a step back. Sometimes, his not-so-intimidating shortness came in hand.

"Shut up, _Bates_."


	12. To passion when it's new

**Hello! I'm telling you, this one sucks: it's long and I haven't had time to read it again. I made it longer because I've started University again and my updates will take a while from now on.**

** Seriously, I personally think it sucks. But enjoy, if you can? - xo, Mel**

**X**

Wearing a suit on a crowded beach wasn't a smart thing to do if you wanted to go unnoticed in a big city like Los Angeles. It was full of extravagant people, but a wealthy dressed man passing by a beach volley match didn't radiate extravagant: it screamed either crazy man or probably Drug Lord, loud and clear.

It only needed one wrong person to see him reach the house and Graceland would be burned.

Oddly enough, Mike wasn't worried about that. Jessica had left him a few blocks away and he had taken a whole different way to get back home; he wasn't that naive anymore, he knew how to vanish without trace.

He entered from the back of the house, taking his expensive looking shoes off. He shook them energetically, sand flying everywhere.

Nobody heard him going in, thanks to his barefoot state. He had expected them all to be out, considering it was past noon, but surprisingly, the only ones missing were Briggs and Jakes.

He came through the kitchen, loud noises coming from the living room, and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

When he leant on the wall, raising the bottle to his lips, he almost missed his mouth.

Paige was standing on the couch, flip flops in hands and arms raised above her head as she mimicked what he thought - and actually hoped was a cheerleading routine; Charlie sat at her feet, beer in hand, laughing her ass off.

It would have actually been fun to watch Paige make a fool of herself like that, had it not been for the weirdest scene he had ever seen taking place right in front of him: Johnny and Bates were both lying down on the floor, legs entwined, in a some sort of human ball. They kept rolling around awkwardly, trying to push the other's leg as far as it could possibly go. Their verses seemed those of a pack of wolves engaged in a struggle to mark their territory.

Inexperienced wolves, actually, since either they didn't know what they were doing or they didn't _how_ to do it.

Mike flinched, as he heard Zelanski's hip making a crack sound and saw Johnny kicking his foot in the air, twisting it around the DEA agent's ankle, and levering himself back on his arms to get a good push.

It was the most awkward thing he had ever seen two men doing and he had seen many, many crazy things during his golden days at Quantico.

He had no clue what Zelanski's sexual orientation was - and he doubted he would even want to find out after this.

He had been pretty sure the guy had a thing for Paige, but one can never know.

However, he knew for a fact Johnny wasn't into _that_ kind of thing. Or at least, that was the impression he had got after he had seen him flirting with more than one girl, sometimes simultaneously.

Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he would have started to doubt about his manhood.

"Erhm…" Mike cleared his throat, grabbing everybody's attention.

The two fighting men stopped into a rather weird position. He knew he was going to have nightmares about it sooner or later.

"Mikey Mike!" He heard Johnny muffle from behind Wayne's calf. Charlie titled her beer in his direction, taking a sip.

"What… is going on?" He dared to ask, as he shook his beer back at her and took a swing as well.

Paige hopped down from the couch and threw her flip flops on the floor, recollecting the beer she had set down on the coffee table before.

"Leg wrestling!"

"Leg wrestling?"

She nodded, tasting her beer.

"Yep. They made fun of me while I was doing yoga, saying it's not hard and stuff. I told them it gets physical, that you need a good amount of flexibility but they didn't listen."

Mike furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at Charlie.

"I still don't get it?"

She shrugged at him, getting up.

"That's the closest thing to a yoga session, it hurts just the same, if not less. - Well, how did it go?"

Both Charlie and Paige eyed him expectedly.

Mike sighed, taking a long gulp and clicking his tongue, as Zelanski and Johnny untangled themselves and sat on the floor - their muscles burned so much it was almost impossible for them to get up.

He looked down, clutching the bottle to his chest: he faked a sorrowful expression, adverting his eyes from the floor to the opposite wall. He avoided their questioningly gazes.

"Well, I guess that's just how it was supposed to go…"

Charlie clenched her fist around her own beer. Mike actually feared she was going to break it.

"Man, you serious?" Johnny asked. He found enough strength to get up and lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Unbelievable. That sucks…" He was about to give him a manly hug, when a cheeky grin spread onto Mike's lips.

"Nah, I go back on Monday."

Johnny hit his shoulder and ruffled his hair, as he erupted in laughter at Charlie's stunned expression and dodged one of Paige's flip flops she had forcefully thrown at him.

"That's not funny, man. You had us worried!"

"Sorry, it just… you should've seen your faces." Mike murmured, as Charlie stepped over to wrap her arms around him. She took his face in her hands and shook his head in a scolding manner, before patting his back and swaying him side to side. He squeezed her petite frame back, kissing her cheek.

"I'm so glad it's all over, Mikey." She whispered to him, releasing him. She held onto his arms for a while, smiling at him. "Feelin' better?"

"Much better. Told ya you wouldn't get rid of me so easily." He winked at her.

Mike dropped her hands from her waist and got ready to face the same woman he had been dying to see since morning, for different reasons. Their last farewell had left him hot and bothered that morning and the fact that they now had to share a very long talk wouldn't have let him take care of those rather sexy images that had been engraved into his mind for more than 4 hours now.

As their eyes met, he didn't notice the front door slamming open and the two missing members of the Graceland family entering. Not until he heard Jakes' voice booming behind his back.

"… get rid of who?"

He turned around, coming face to face with the black man; Paul stood a few steps behind, visibly pissed off. Mike didn't know why he was in such a bad mood, but he was sure he would've felt even worse after learning about Mike's return on the case.

"Warren's back on track." Zelanski held his thumbs up to them.

"Really." Jakes turned to cast a glance at Briggs, who shrugged.

Mike eyed him carefully: he had put his pokerface on, but he had clearly seen his shoulders stiffen at the news. Dale turned his attention back to him, surprisingly smiling at him and holding his hand out: they shared a handshake and bumped their shoulders.

"Congrats, Levi."

"Thanks…" Mike's eyes never left Briggs's.

There was a strange vibe coming from his ex mentor. He didn't know if he was actually pissed at him or at the Bureau for allowing him to come back. The only thing he was sure of was that he was fuming.

What the hell happened during those 4 hours he had been away at the headquarters was something only Briggs and Jakes knew. And he was determined to find out, one way or another.

Just not now. He had enough on his plate, he didn't need other things to worry about. All he needed was to set his priorities straight.

_'__Stay focused this time, Mike. This is your last shot at it.' _Jessica's words echoed in his head and made him look away from Paul's intensive stare.

He felt Paige's hand pat him on the back, as she passed by him to collect her flip flop she had thrown before. Their eyes met instantly.

"Welcome back, Mike."

He nodded, suddenly feeling cold when her green eyes diverted from him and her back faced him. He took his jacket off, throwing it down on the couch, and rolled his sleeves up.

The others began to disperse, but he quickly grabbed their attention: considering what Jess and Clarke had told him that morning, they had no time to lose. They had to get everything set and ready for the meeting.

Clarke had made pretty clear that he hadn't wasted his Sunday morning to get him back on the team for nothing. They had been able to set a meeting with Solano's sex trafficking guy and he had exactly one day to get everything ready: background, cash, wires, everything.

One thing missing or done wrong and he could've found himself in the ground or alive, but off the FBI forever.

He couldn't get this wrong.

His cover had to be perfect.

"Wait, guys. I have some things to discuss with you. It's about the Solano's."

When he was sure he had gotten everybody's attention, he cleared his throat, crossing his arms. His eyes scanned their faces one by one: they were his people, his family. If he had any chance to make this right, their help was all he needed.

"Take a seat, it's going to take a while."

'_The whole day_' he corrected himself, mentally. But they didn't need to know that yet. If there was something he had learnt from his past time at Graceland, it was that you should never tell somebody on his free day that they have to spend it stuck in the house. Working.

Especially Johnny.

A few grunts and moans echoed through the living room, but Mike ignored them. He walked to the other side in order to stand in front of all of them.

As Paige passed him to get a spot on the couch, he sneaked his arm around her waist, stopping her. Her eyes quickly stared back into his; he checked if their friends were listening, before he leant down to her ear.

"Can I talk to you, in private?" He whispered.

She nodded, prying his hand from her hip and pulling away: the touch had been kind and felt quite nice, but she didn't need Johnny nor anyone else picking on her more than they already were.

"Later, my room."

**X**

Mike threw his head back. His neck muscles felt so tight and sore.

They had ended up spending the entire day discussing different plans and working on his background; Charlie had thought up every single detail of his cover: she had made him look like a real smart ass, a French graduate. He had tried to persuade her into changing his degree, but she had insisted it was better to be an international affairs expert in order to make his cover more realistic.

He had to be working for a big company - how else would he be able to own all that money to buy a girl with whom get rid of his needs?

That's why he had to be a hedge fund manager.

It was all on him - Harold Gairnhart, graduate in French language and literature and Spanish graduate with honors in College.

He certainly hoped nobody would ask him to speak in French or he'd be screwed.

He had just dismissed everybody, when something - one of the most important things, actually - came up into his mind.

"One more thing…" he caught Jakes rolling his eyes, but decided over ignoring it. He looked at Paige.

"The girl you had wired…"  
>"Anika."<p>

"Yeah, Anika." Mike nodded, looking back at Jakes. "She got auctioned off. There's no way we can know what happens in there now."

Briggs leant his elbows on the back of the couch, still sanding behind Charlie. She rubbed her temples: she must have been just as tired as Mike, judging by her circled eyes.

He couldn't complain, though - she had been the one working her ass off more than anybody else to get him a great cover.

"Can't you bug the place or something?"

"He could, but he'd get himself killed, Chuck." Paul reasoned. "I doubt they'd let him go sniffing around."

Mike nodded, instantly agreeing with his mentor. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose: this was one of the biggest problems.

He hoped Sulla - the seller would give him his number for future "_purchases_"; that way, they could easily track his calls and keep his phone under control.

But that was possible only _if_ he gave him the number.

Otherwise, they'd have to go another way. A way he was planning to find right now, because having more than just one plan B was better than having none at all.

As they all thought about it, Paige's voice rang out. Mike turned his attention to her.

"We can get another girl wired, Mike."

He pursued his lips, shaking his head.

"No, we can't. Lawrence's buses have been confiscated by the FBI. Every circulation… - there's no way."

Paige looked thoughtful for a minute, as she got down on her knees and grabbed the map on the coffee table. She turned it around, running her fingers all over it: she traced the highway that connected Tecate to Los Angeles.

Mike's eyes followed her. He got up and sat down where she had been seated just a minute earlier.

"Their shipments always happen on Sundays. If we're lucky, we can find one of the Tinker bells in one of these three other stations". She pointed at three different spots on the map, feeling him hovering over her: he put his hands on the map, caging her between his arms. He was so close that she could feel his hot breath on the back of her head.

Had it been a different situation, she'd have actually leant back on his chest; but this was a life threatening situation: one thing going wrong and he'd be dead by supper.

However, she couldn't help but think about their _compromising_ position: even though they weren't even actually touching each other, that gesture felt pretty intimate and she was sure the others were aware of that.

She put her thoughts aside when he started talking again.

"It could work, but no. - It's too risky."

Paige turned around into his arms, looking up at him.

"We did it before, we can do it again."

"The meeting is tomorrow at 4, there's no time. - If we rush this thing…"

"We won't."

Mike shook his head and stood back up.

"No, it's not a good idea. I'll find some other way."  
>"But-"<p>

"I said no. Paige."

His eyes stared coldly into hers: as always, he wasn't being rude to her - she actually didn't think he had ever been, but he knew how to make his point. He knew how to be stern, without exaggerating.

Paige nodded, giving up. Knowing him, she wouldn't be able to change his mind when it came to his job.

Mike rubbed his face, sighing.

"I think we're all done here. Go get some rest. Oh and John? Any sign of Carlito?"

On the other side of the room, chewing on a weirdly looking toast, Johnny shook his head.

"No - i'll stop by tomorrowumff, but…" He stopped to chug down a bite, as a faint look of discomfort flashed on Mike's face.

He didn't really want to see the inside of his mouth.

"I doubt he's come back."

_Great. Just great._

**X**

Paige stood by her window, looking at the sun disappearing into the ocean in what seemed a pink and orange slow motion.

She had never been one to rely entirely on her emotions. She hated sentimentalisms, she hated siamese couples and she refused to live like a romantic lady.

She was a badass and always had been - hell, she hated poetry so much she actually failed her literature class multiple times in high school.

Or at least, she had been a total badass until Mike had started creeping up under her skin. If he had been intimidated by her, he had never shown it more than he should have.

At first, she hadn't even thought about sleeping with him - she had been honest when she had said he was hot, the night they met in that bathroom, with Charlie being their interfere. But Graceland was sacred, so she hadn't put too much thought into it.

But then, he had started being this complicated, annoying perfectionist that had made her want to pull at his hair and smack the back of his head and cradle him in her arms all at once.

The first time she had thought about cuddling up with Mike, she had freaked out.

She had spent an entire day out, avoiding him, telling herself it was just a stupid phase - she had just broke up with her guy of the month and had been suffering from withdrawal symptoms from sex.

But then they had started spending more and more time together. She had taught him stuff he had absorbed so quickly, she had actually been quite impressed.

She had only come to realize it had been slowly turning into a serious issue when that _walking sponge_ had been stabbed by Jangles: the incessant thumping of her heart and the hyperventilation she had suffered from when he had been in surgery had been clear signs she hadn't been able to ignore.

_No love in Graceland._

It hadn't been love, she had been sure of that.

_'__It's just an infatuation.' _She had thought.

But then he had kissed her and she hadn't been so sure of that anymore. Ever since.

It was something deeper. No, it wasn't love. She cared enormously about him - hell, she was cooperating with that evil woman after all, wasn't she?

_'__It's all about the Tinker bells, P. It's not about him.'_

Between caring about him and actually loving him, the gap was pretty large.

_No love in Graceland._

Graceland was the operation and it was sacred. Paige was a professional. She wasn't one to mix business with pleasure.

She had hooked up with a few of her colleagues in the past, but that had been it. It had never gone anywhere.

But with Mike, it had.

There was something about him that had been able to break her boundaries and make her weak at his touch, at the intense stares coming from his eyes - at the sound of his voice.

He would leave traces of fire on her skin whenever he touched her; she would catch him staring from the other side of the room, sending her sideways glances during surveillance or at work, and she would feel the flutter of those damn butterflies in her stomach.

Paige _hated_ that.

Paige didn't deal with emotions. Paige wasn't soft. Paige was _hardcore_.

The sound of his voice was the worst.

Normally, it wouldn't even affect her that much. He could be talking to her and she'd even zone out.

But the murmuring. The raspy and husky sound that came up from deep down his throat and tickled the shell of her ear whenever they were alone, it would leave a continuous and perpetuating tingling throughout all her body that would get her immobilized.

It would go straight to her brain and she wouldn't be able to understand a thing anymore; she would be completely at his mercy. - Although she didn't really mind, when they were _doing things_.

The attraction she felt for Mike had reached a maddening point.

"I know everything, Paige."

There it is.


	13. Penelope's veil

**Hello! As you've all probably realized by now, I'm kind of a sucker for romance, dramas and poetry. That's why Paige is sweeter than usual, but I tried to stick to her complicated mind when it comes to dating. I haven't had time to re read this either, so please, ignore my grammar horrors. Enjoy & share your thoughts, if you want. Hope you like it! :)**

**P.S. Thanks for reviewing, reading, favoriting and following!**

**- xo Mel**

**X**

Mike took a deep breath.

Talking to Paige always required a good amount of inner strength for obvious reason - she could invalidate all your arguments and make them crumble before your eyes with just one hard stare.

However, as intimate as they had become, he had thought a serious conversation with her would have come easier.

Boy, had he been wrong.

If anything, the place they were at now in their relationship was so fragile that it made talking to her harder than before: one bad word and he could risk not to have her even look at his way ever again.

He would deny it later, but as he neared her room, he had to put his hands into his pockets in order not to start fidgeting.

When he reached her door, though, every doubt and insecurity disappeared: she was standing in front of the window, staring into the sky outside.

In that moment, he swore he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Her skin glowed under the orange light of the sunset peeking through her window: her back was completely exposed to his eyes, thanks to the ripped tank top she had chosen -_destroyed, _actually- and he had to mentally scold himself not to march towards her and feel her skin under his fingers.

She always looked stunning, she always had been. But in that moment, she was purely and utterly beautiful.

"I know everything, Paige."

Mike watched as her body reacted to his voice in a surprisingly good way: he had expected her to tense up, but she had hugged herself instead and kept staring out at the horizon.

It was kind of a relief to know this wouldn't have ended up in a fight, but it also scared him at the same time: as far as he knew, Paige was a time bomb. Cut the a red wire instead of a blue one and she'd blow up right there; and you with her.

"Close the door, mind you?"

Without taking his eyes off of her, he reached behind and silently shut the door. He stepped back, leaning his frame on the wall.

"I guess the bitch ratted me out."

Paige moved from the window to her vanity, running a hand on the surface before she settled against it. He shook his head, resignedly.

"Don't call her that, c'mon."

She shot her eyes up, giving up on trying to avoid looking at him, and he closed his mouth: speak ing of not cutting the wrong wire? '_Well done, Warren._'

"I'll call her whatever the hell I want, Mike. It was not her job to tell you about this."

Mike held his hands up, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, okay - sorry!"

He watched her dismissing his not-so-heartfelt apology with a shake of her head, as she diverted her eyes from his figure and looked away. She propped herself up on her vanity, her lips forming a hard, thin line.

Usually they were inviting, full, plump. _Juicy_, he'd dare to say. If she had been able to tighten them so hard, enough to make her mouth look like a thin, drawn line, she had to be fuming inside.

"Paige, wh-" He rubbed a hand on his face, setting the other onto his hip and anxiously spinning around in his place, before he looked straight back at her; arms wide open. "What the hell were you thinking, uh? Why didn't you tell me first?"

Avoiding his gaze, she looked down at her feet, kicking them lightly.

"You know exactly why, Mike. Don't play stupid - you'd have never agreed to something like that."

"You're right, I sure as hell wouldn't! It could've jeopardized everything, Paige! You kidnapped him!"

She let out a sarcastic laugh.

"It's not like you had anything to lose…"

Stopping himself from pacing in front of her, his shoulders slumped. She wasn't being serious, was she?

"Of course not, my career is nothing to you, right? But what about the case? Is it nothing too? And the girls? Do they-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence or I'll strangle you barehanded, Michael!" Paige raised her voice, her eyes turning into an ice land, and kicked the chair she was resting her feet on.

It reversed on the floor with a thud, right at his feet; he watched her face turn every shade of red, she was so mad.

The space between them augmented when she went back to her spot at the window: her back facing him hurt just like the stab he had gotten from Jangles. He hated fighting with her, but even more _hurting_ her. And with his daft assumptions, he had just done that.

"That was the only way I could've helped them. With you off the case, there was no way I could've saved them from that shit hole. Jessica would have gone back to DC, all happy and smiley with you on her tail and they'd have been abandoned to their fate - I needed you to get them out of there."

The pain Mike had thought he had imagined feeling right where his _Jangles scar _was intensified. He knew she was being honest and she was making the whole thing about the operation because that's what he wanted to hear - or at least, that's what they both _thought_ was best for him to hear.

However, he couldn't help but feel her words stinging right under his skin: she had done it for the girls. _Only _the girls. Because he was just the pawn that would keep the game going.

Paige slid her hands into her own pockets. The tension her words had left in the air was unbearable for both of them, but she wouldn't be the one breaking the silence. It wasn't her job to do so - she had done what it had been necessary to save the entire operation. That's what her job had required her to do and she wasn't going to say, act or feel any different about her actions because of him.

"I get it." Mike whispered, this time making her back straighten up as she perked up in surprise. It wasn't something he had said out of a sudden rush of sarcasm or anger. It was what he truly felt like: he got it.

How couldn't he? She had done the exact same thing he would have done: give his 100% to accomplish his mission and save the case, no matter the situation, no matter what it took.

He had learnt it the hard way during the Bello bust. Eddie, the Caza hitman… Kidnapping a suspect certainly was the least worst thing she could have done.

"Really?"

He nodded, even though she couldn't see him.

Paige felt him move behind her; the faint sound of his bare feet sliding on the carpet floor of her room indicated he was getting closer and she didn't know whether to feel happy or scared about it. They were in the middle of an argument, so if he was approaching her, it was either for one of two things: he was going to end it or he wasn't going to let it go so easily.

Which one would it be?

Mike stood right behind her back. Her scent trapped him in a cloud: he wanted to reach out and hug her, hold her to him, but he wasn't sure if he had yet earned the right to do so, considering the current status of their confrontation.

"Really." He murmured again, exhaling.

Paige nodded and was about to turn around, when his next words hit her like a bucket of ice cold water. Immobilizing her.

"So you did it for the girls?"

She swallowed hard. She knew what he was implying, but she pretended not to. It was already hard enough to admit _it_ to herself, she could only imagine how hard it would feel like saying_ it_ out loud. And most of all to _him_, for Christ sake.

"They're important to me, Mike."

It had come out as faint as a whisper and Paige damned herself for that: she was always confident, _always_. Lying was one of the most important skills required in her job and she had always been a _mistress_ in disguise; surely, she could stand her territory in her own room, couldn't she?

Apparently, that was another boundary of hers that had been crossed by him. '_Damn, P. Get your shit together, he's just a boy.'_

Mike shook his head, leaning forward, and got lost into her scent: the soft movement made her skin shiver, as he breathed out into her ear.

"_Only_ for the girls?"

This time, Paige caught herself, squeezing her eyes tight: she wouldn't let a guy bring her down, turn her into a soft vanilla princess. Like the two he had been involved with before - wait, what if there had been more? What if he had more women waiting for him back in DC? Women she didn't kno- Oh, screw that.

That was not the time to worry about it. Not that she even needed to: she _wasn't_ the jealous type.

"Yes." She replied, stubbornly. Her voice rang out firm and confident, making her quite proud of her ability at keeping her coolness. Of course, that until he spoke out again.

"Liar." Mike grasped her forearms, tugging at her toned frame to turn her around.

The shock of his statement made the task quite easier, as she didn't fight it at all.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't do it for me. That I'm not important."

"Mike… Of course you're important…" She trailed off, avoiding his gaze.

That had been a low move: he couldn't ask her that. It wasn't fair.

He was basically twisting her words and turning them around in order to have her voice out loud how she felt about him; he was using the girls and their - _his_ case, at his own advantage.

Although, she had to admit he had been smart, as always: she couldn't have expected anything less from him.

Looking back at it, it had been too strange that she had been able to fool him with just a bold '_yes_'; she had let her guard down and he had taken her by surprise. A typical mistake she had never made, not even at the start of her career. Damn it.

"That's not what I asked. - Hey, I said look at me."

Mike grabbed her chin, pulling her face up an inch, just enough so he could bore his eyes into hers: as soon as blue met green, their little bubble engulfed them again and Paige felt her self control slip out through the soapy walls.

His thumb ghosted over her chin up to her cheekbone.

"Now, tell me it wasn't me you did it for."

She remained silent: she wouldn't say it - she _couldn't_ say it. Her pride wouldn't allow her to, nor her right mind. He wasn't supposed to have the upper hand in their _exclusive_ _thing_, it was supposed to be her. She was supposed to be in charge and that's how it was going to be.

Yet, the fact that neither of them was able to break their intensive stare and tear their eyes away made it pretty easy for Mike to guess the answer, as he made the first step and launched over to press his lips to hers.

Her hands floated in the air and her eyes widened at the sudden and unexpected contact, giving her no choice but to debate whether to push him away or give into it.

Eventually, she chose the second option: Mike had put an end to their discussion and was obviously trying to move past it. Or at least, that's what she had initially thought he was trying to do.

It began like every other time, but soon took a different course. Because when she actually let her eyes flutter close and lingered her hands on his stomach, she got a whole different new feeling from the one she had experienced during their previous make up kisses.

His lips moved bravely but slowly against hers, in a sexy, yet delicate way, as his fingers roamed featherlike under her top: they brushed against her skin, moving the fabric up, and they reached the top of her hipbone only to slid back down, in a soothing caress.

It was almost like he wanted to let that kiss speak for him, but he didn't want her to hear; only to _feel_.

For a moment in time, nothing mattered and everything stopped.

Slowly, Paige leant into his warm body and slid one of her hands up his chest, reaching up to his face and caressing his cheek. She titled her head to the side, with Mike mimicking her action to the other side, to match the softness of her slightly parted lips against his, as his tongue reached across the void. When her hand slid to the back of his head and cupped his nape, he locked his arms around her waist, pressing their bodies firmer together; her nails scratched the skin of his neck intimately, as she moaned into the kiss at the feeling of his forearms reaching down to hoist her slightly up and he beckoned them towards her bed; the tip of her feet scraped faintly against the carpet, as she gained a few inches of height when he picked her up, and had to pull boldly at the hair at the back of his neck to make him title his head so not to break their kiss.

Something he did anyway when she bounced on her back, his body covering hers on the bed in a tender embrace: Paige looked up at him, bending her knees to accommodate him between her legs, and slid her hand back down his chest; both of them heavily breathing.

Mike reached down to brush her hair out of her face; the look he gave her made her wonder how was it possible that she had never noticed her past conquests looking at her like that.

Probably because they hadn't: usually, she'd pick men up from bars and pubs and, even though there was always that one man professing his "undying love" for her when she would try to end things, she had always known they were only trying to keep their bed warm a little longer.

With Mike, she knew that wasn't the case. Because he wasn't just some hot, cocky guy from a crowded bar.

Mike was the better guy.

That's why that loving look mixed with admiration affected her so much: he wasn't faking it just so he could have his way with her, he meant it. And she could feel it through that tingling feeling that went from her toes to the tip of her hair whenever he stared down at her like that.

"I want this, Paige. I really do." His lips formed those words so quickly that she barely had the chance of processing them, before he brushed his mouth against hers again in a brief kiss. He didn't give her the chance of speaking up, as he proceeded to cover her skin with light, soft pecks.

There was no rush, no eagerness. Just… plain tenderness, something she had almost never experienced before with a guy.

If she really took her time to think about it, the only other guy who had been loving and caring with her had been her first boyfriend, after homecoming, in the back of his car. However, she was pretty sure he hadn't been _this _loving and caring, because this was Mike.

The guy who went for runs at 6AM; who would do everybody's turns on the chore wheel; who would waste his time and FBI goodies to help you on your drug dealer case; who would give up his free night out to drink coffee in the back of a car and fight for you to keep your eyes open during surveillance… this was just Mike.

And, even though she was used to steamy, passionate men - a side he obviously possessed too and that was _quite interesting_ - she couldn't help but feel excited whenever he _worshipped_ her like that.

Paige slipped her hand between them, right when he began trailing his kisses down her jaw to reach her pulse, whose blood inside was pumping at such a fast pace she feared she'd collapse if he didn't do something about it.

Her fingers would have surely undone his belt if he hadn't circled her wrist and pulled away from her neck.

"No…" he shook his head, pushing himself up not to crash her with his weight - although she actually felt like he wanted to talk some more.

_Great_.

They had brought it to bed and what he wanted to do was talk. Typical of Mike.

"But I thought -"

He shook his head again, closing his eyes for a brief moment to completely focus on her and not on the growing tightness of his pants.

"I do. I always want you, Paige."

"Great…" She reached up to silence him with a kiss, but he turned his face aside, resulting in her lips crashing against his cheek.

"I want all of you. And I mean, _all _of you."

The flutter in her stomach started again: damn him and his stupid obsession with heartfelt conversations. She didn't want to talk about that, not now, not ever in the near future.

She wanted to wait. He had agreed to that. Why wasn't he waiting then?

Paige retrieved her hand, trying to prop herself up to push him away, when he dropped his head down and pressed his forehead against hers.

She closed her eyes in resignation, knowing full well she wasn't going to escape from this.

"Mike, don't."

"No. I have to, I can't - we need to talk about it."

"About what? I told you I need time. But you just can't do it, can you? It's either your way or nothing!"

He furrowed his eyebrows, pulling back slightly, and she scooted herself up; Mike watched her move, still caged under his frame.

"I'm not trying to pressure you into anything. I'm just trying to make you understand what I want."

She turned her head away, scoffing.

"I don't want to hear it, Mike. I'm just fine with the way things are between us. - _Were_."

"Well, I'm not!" It was his turn to scoff, and she stared back at him in surprise at his sudden outburst. "Don't look at me like that, you would known if you'd actually let me talk sometime!"

Mike rolled off of her, leaning on the back of his legs; once she had sat up, he took one of her hands and pulled himself together, apologetically. She watched as he laced their fingers together, provoking a content smile to spread on his face when she didn't pull back.

"You see? I want to be able to do that whenever I want, _wherever_ I want. I don't want to sneak into your room at night and pretend I don't care where you are when it's light; I want to be able to kiss you good morning-"

"You've already been doing that for days now," she reasoned, trying to sound uninterested, but pathetically failing at it: the soft tone she had used hadn't gone unnoticed to him.

"You know what I mean. Everybody knows already, what's the point in keep hiding? Are you that ashamed of me or what?"

Paige, who had been avoiding his gaze all along, flicked her eyes to his face just in time to see a flash of hurt darkening his features. She shook her head, running a hand through her hair and pulling herself up. She paced back and forth; Mike watched anxiously from the bed.

"I'm not ashamed of you, you idiot! I'm ashamed of myself."

He frowned, scooting down to sit on the edge.

"Of yourself?"

" I- I'm not what you're used to, Mike."

"Definitely not." He muttered, his comment luckily going unheard to her.

"I'm obnoxious. I'm impossible to deal with, sometimes and-"

Mike chuckled, raising his eyebrows.

"Sometimes?"

She stopped pacing, turning around to look at him exasperatedly when she noticed he wasn't taking it seriously. She wanted to save him from herself, why couldn't he get it?

"I'ma steal your food."

He shook his head, smiling.

"Good, I'll lose those extra pounds I gained in DC."

"I'ma steal your clothes."

"It'll be hot and fun to take them off of you."

Paige took a step towards him, giving up her pacing.

"I'ma have to seduce tons of men."

Sighing, Mike rubbed his brow.

"As much as I'd rather have you not to… it's part of your job, I can deal with it as long as you come back to me in one piece."

"You say that now…"

He looked up at her, catching her eyes before she could look away.

"I mean it. I told you I want all of you, even if it means taking the good with the bad."

She was right in front of him, but he didn't dare to touch her: this was slowly going into _that_ direction and he didn't want to jinx it just because he couldn't keep his hands to himself and resist her.

"You'll feel ashamed of me. - You'll get bored with it. And with me. Everybody gets bored with me sooner or later."

Mike's eyebrows shot all the way up as she diverted her eyes from his; was she being serious? Because he was having a hard time trying not to knock some sense into her. He tried to hold back his laugh, throwing himself back on the mattress and rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"God, you're impossible… seriously, you're such a handful."

Before he could continue with his speech, a fist collided with his stomach, making him yelp out in pain. He reached down to massage the offended area, trying to get up, but having a hard time in doing so. Paige could take your breath away any time. Not just because of her stunning appearance: she could throw some hard, sucker punches that would cut the air out of your lungs for quite some time. Luckily for him, she hadn't put too enough strength in her blow to do that, but it still had hurt.

"Ouch!"

"Get out of my fucking room and go back to your blonde hyena, dick!"

She was about to swing her arm and smash her fist back into flesh, when he caught her wrist mid air and pulled her on his lap: she fell face front into his chest, one leg on each side of him.

Mike brushed the hair that had fallen in her face back behind her ears, as he pressed light kisses to her throat, making her soften into his arms.

"How many times do I have to tell you? She's nothing to me - I want _you_." He stopped to nibble on the side of her jaw, as she titled her head to the side and let him use his charm to make himself forgiven: she was just allowing him to sweet talk her into forgetting what he had just said only because she was sexually frustrated, not because she liked hearing those words or anything.

However, if that was what it took to make her ease into their relationship, he'd repeat it over and over, until she'd finally give in.

"And that handful thing… it was a compliment - you're not boring: you're sexy, you're smart, you're fun. The entire opposite of boring. Who the hell have you been dating all this time?!"

She sneaked her arms around his shoulders, moaning as his tongue brushed over the sensitive skin of her weak spot.

"Every straight agent in every Federal Agency would kill to take my place right now. - Especially Johnny's men. You don't know how many times I've had to keep myself from beating them up whenever they made comments and… _enjoyed the view_."

Paige chuckled and pulled his head away from her neck: his eyes scanned the faint marks of his teeth standing out on her skin, before he moved them up to her eyes. She brushed his hair back, rolling the slightly spiked up strands between her fingers.

"If we tell everybody about us… it'll change everything. It'll make it sound so… official. And that scares me." She confessed.

"There's nothing to be afraid of. This relationship - it's ours. That won't change, no matter what they think or say."

She sighed, resting her forehead against his and roaming her hands on his back; she felt Mike adjust on the bed. Suddenly, he laid his back down, bringing her with him. His hand came up to thread through her hair, cuddling her head into his chest as she laid on it. She felt his heart thumping wildly: it always happened whenever she was into his arms - or even in the same room, for the matter. But right now, he was trying to act cool, like he had nothing to worry about: however, he was worried indeed; he was worried she'd run away and never go back to him. To think he had almost finally gotten her…

It was only when Paige pulled herself up and straddled him, though, that his heart started racing at the speed of light: he looked up at her, laying his hands on her hips, as she rested her forearms on each side of his head; her hair framing her face so beautifully that he thought he was going to pass out from the view.

She leant down, brushing her lips against his.

"Take me for a ride, Warren." What she had tried to say in a sexy voice turned out to be a soft laugh. She bit his full lip jokingly, as he chuckled.

"Is that a yes?"

Nodding, Paige pecked his lips.

"Just… let's keep calling it a _thing, _okay? It sounds…"

"Less official, I know."

Their lips locked in harmony instantly. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her down on him intimately; one of her hands creeped under his shirt, popping a few buttons from the inside, one knee moving to spread his legs and rest close to his crotch, as she straddled one of his thigh to get a better position and have a perfect access to his neck.

He dug his fingers into her sides, trying to keep himself from groaning when her lips started working on the spot under his jaw; he knew he probably had way too many hickeys already, but if it used to bother him before, right now he wouldn't have stopped her for nothing at all: he could show them proudly, he didn't have to hide them anymore.

He had Paige.

He _really had_ Paige.

Mike hooked his thumb in the straps of her top and pulled it down, along with her nude colored bra. He began to slowly and tenderly brush his tongue across the faintly red mark that he had previously left there, before dragging his lips back up to her ear and biting her lobe.

"So… that yoga stuff. You said it requires a lot of_ flexibility_?"

A smile spread onto her lips, still attached to his neck; the feeling made him shiver.

Paige pulled away to look at him: this time, both their eyes were filled up with passion; a new kind of a passion, one they had never seen in their eyes before.

Even though Paige wanted to call what they had a _thing_ and Mike a _relationship_, they were both aware they were stepping into a new territory, which implicated new emotions, new feelings and also, a new level of sexuality.

She had once said he had been lost. At first, he had thought she had been right - but for the wrong reason. He hadn't been lost because of Briggs; he had been lost because he had let the circumstances make him lose focus.

But now Mike wasn't a wonderer anymore; now Odysseus had found his way back to what he wanted - his case, his beloved _Ithaca, _and he had his Penelope at his side.

He brushed his hand over her cheek: the sight of her all flustered, her shoulder bare and inviting, her pink lips plump and swollen, her cheeks lighted up in a deep shade of pink… it made everything seem so real. It felt real. It _was_ real: he had gotten Paige, as incredible as it sounded.

Before Mike could get lost into his worshipping thoughts, Paige literally ripped his shirt open; buttons flying everywhere, as she grabbed each side of his torn shirt and rolled over, pulling him with her.

"I'll be your monkey rum, Levi. _Monkey_ rum."


	14. Can't you hear that rooster crowin?

**Hello! I really appreciate your support :) I'm at uni right now, waiting with my friend for our next lesson (it's in 2 hours!). Even though you don't care, I got the top score in my course on my last exam :D So to celebrate, he helped me editing this! lol Enjoy it if you can and let me know what you think :)**

**- xo, Mel**

**P.S. The "Monkey Rum" is a great liquor in my country (Idk if you guys have it there too) and the name's always sounded kind of funny to me lol It really doesn't have a connection to anything at all, except for the "flexibility" assonance with "monkey". Maybe? ;) It's stupid, I know but that's just who I am lol **

**P.S. #2 The title of this chapter is a reference to Bob Dylan's "New morning", which came on my iPod as I edited this. I thought it was perfect for this chapter! Give it a listen if you're interested, it's a great song!**

**X**

Lips had always been one of Mike Warren's guilty pleasures, since his first kiss in 10th grade - he had been an early bloomer, despite his parents being fervent catholics.

He loved kissing them, biting them. Basically, he could spend his time devouring lips and not getting tired one bit. No matter what shape or how full they were, it was always one of his favorite things about make out sessions, as long as he could have some time to have fun with it.

But waking up to the feeling of Paige's mouth - of her tender, luscious lips tickling their way up his spine - was something almost _sublime._ He made a mental note to reschedule his list of favorites: this one was going straight up to the top. Maybe he could make himself 24/7 available for her as long as she'd provide him such a sensual awakening every morning in return. It was sending him into raptures - which although probably wasn't a good thing. He was sure that if he turned around, he would take into her ravishingly morning beauty and all his plans for the day would be fucked. _Literally_.

Paige's lips trailed up between his shoulder blades and she sneaked one hand down his back to keep herself steady. He could feel the tip of her hair brushing against the back of his head, but didn't dare to move, so not to broke this pleasant spell he happened to have fallen under: he was laying on his stomach, one hand curled up under his - _her_ pillow and his other arm stretched out on her side of the bed and his face turned towards the door.

He squeezed his eyes tight at the feeling of her tongue brushing sensually on the spot under his lobe, forcing a raspy moan up his throat.

"Mhm."

Paige giggled and settled on his back, straddling him. He reached one hand behind, stroking her thigh tenderly.

"You up early." He murmured. She nuzzled the back of his neck, biting into his skin and scraping her nails down the side of his body to prove her point.

"Seems like I am, sleepyhead."

Mike groaned. This wasn't fair. He was sleepy, he was tired, he was in a weak state and she was clearly taking advantage of him. Evil, evil woman.

"Can't. Another round. Wore me out." He managed to slur out, his eye lids too heavy to lift due to his lack of energy.

She moved to the other side of his neck, dangerously close to his mouth: he could smell the fading scent of her shampoo making its way up his nostrils, poisoning his brain.

Turning his head, he met her lips almost instantly. '_Just a quick peck_', he promised himself. A brush and he would be done. Or at least, that's what he had intended to do. But Paige was hard to resist, even when every cell of his body was too spent and screamed at him to stop.

When he finally released her mouth, she rolled off of him and he opened his eyes to look at her tiredly. She laid on her side, facing him, curled up in a human ball - her hands tucked in under her cheek. She almost looked innocent. _Almost_.

" 'morning," she whispered.

His arm slithered over her waist, snuggling up closer to her. He nuzzled her nose, breathing contentedly.

"It is a good morning…"

When he gazed upon her, two green orbs stared back at him, waiting for him to give her his full attention. He readjusted on the bed, so to be on his side too, facing her completely. She didn't say anything, but he could clearly see something was bothering her. He sighed.

"Stop." His stern scold didn't match at all the tender movement of his hand tracing a soft path up and down her side.

Paige faked a quizzical expression, trying to act nonchalant, but his raised eyebrows made it quite clear he could see right through her facade. Lowering her eyes, she let his caress soothe her.

"Sorry… I just need to wrap my head around it."

Mike stilled his hand on her hip, lazily drawing circles with his thumb on her skin: it felt silky and warm under his touch, but somehow she shivered anyway.

It was early, way too early for her to wake up and oddly enough, even for him. He had stopped going for runs in the morning when he had gone to DC, but once back at Graceland, he had tried to pick up his old habit in order to stay fit. It had worked for some time, but then their blazing passion had reached its peak and he had been pretty busy with Paige sneaking into his room every night.

Looking back at it, there hadn't been one night he had spent alone since they had surrendered to one other. Not even when she'd been mad at him.

"C'me here…" He scooted up to sit with his back against the wall and softly pulled her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head, as she half moaned and half giggled, laying her head on his chest and swinging her arm over his lower stomach. He stroked her hair. "It's going to be fine. We'll just have to deal with their teasing for a while, but it'll eventually wear down. Worst case scenario, Johnny will keep on picking on us and making crude jokes about it, but he already is, so what's the problem?"

Paige run her finger over his v-line absentmindedly.

"I guess I'm just choking under pressure."

He snorted, tickling her side.

"Performance anxiety is something _I _should be having with you, considering your proven _abilities _last night."

"Mhm. You did just fine. But maybe you should work out once in a while. Chubby doesn't look good on you."

She nabbed his side, hiding a smile and he looked down at her aghast, holding her wrist.

"Really? '_Just fine'_? Why, you're so romantic."

"I am. Your love handles struck my heart." She chuckled, squealing when he mimicked her action and pinched her side; his nose nuzzled her cheek playfully and she heard him smile against her skin.

Their next kiss was once again unpredictable: Paige didn't know why, but every kiss they had shared since their _thing_ had started developing on a deeper level had been different from the other.

This one was intimate. Sweet.

There was a lascivious hesitation on both parts as they touched, before their lips met in a gentle, lingering touch, as if they were both trying to memorize that feeling of warm intimacy that had settled between them. When they parted, she rolled in her lips, smiling unconsciously when he ran his fingers through her hair. '_There he goes with the adoring look_.'

"I know I'll regret this but…"

Mike pulled away from her, sliding to the foot of the bed to get up and look for his discarded pants; she sat up, curling her legs and watching him, confused.

When he walked back to her, he sat at her feet, propping himself back on one hand, while he held out to her a small, leather bag.

"…I got you something."

Her eyes searched for any kind of sign on his face, but all she could see was his nervous smile as he waited for her to take the object.

"I planned to give it to you the night of our date but… I chickened out, figured it'd be too much and too fast." He said. She hesitantly pulled an Indian bracelet out, along with a folded note. Paige fingered the stone braided at the center. A turquoise.

"I.. don't understand." She confessed.

Mike shrugged, rubbing her ankle.

"It's just something that I saw and reminded me of you. I have one too."

The last part of his statement made Paige's heart stop. She swallowed hard - his voice turning into a distant blur - as she unfolded the small piece of paper and let her eyes scan over the black printed words.

'_Turquoise, the "fallen sky stone" hidden in Mother Earth, has been valued by cultures for its beauty and reputed spiritual and life-giving qualities for over 7000 years. It is a true gem of the centuries. A long time ago someone noticed a clear blue line running through gray rock, and saw the imagery of sky and water in stone, and from that time on, turquoise has been cherished above all else in creation - turquoise, stone of sky, stone of water, stone of blessings, good fortune, protection, good health and long life. Native Americans believe that the earth is alive and that all things, no matter how small or apparently inanimate, are the Native Americans, turquoise is life.'_

_Turquoise is life. _She was about to pass out. Life. She knew she was being insane and overreacting, but he had been right: this was too much and too fast for her.

It reminded her of those friendship bracelets Dale's father made him make. It almost sounded like a proposal.

She couldn't even call it for what it was - a freaking relationship, how was she supposed to wear that thing and not feel like she was wearing some sort of pseudo commitment ring?

'_Chill, P. All he did was getting you a wristband, girl_.' Yeah, but why did it feel like he was asking for proof? Maybe he wanted her to wear it so he could be sure about her. About them.

Maybe it was a test?

No. Knowing Mike, he was just being his annoyingly sweet self and trying to make her feel special and she - she was being her usual party pooper self and spoiling his game. When it came down to these kind of situations, though, she couldn't help it. It felt too official.

How she wished he'd just understand that him being there, with her, made her feel special already.

"… mine has an emerald, though. The lady said it brings goodness into one's life and you…"

As he laced their fingers, all she could think about was how she had missed half of his speech and was still hyperventilating inside for… she didn't even know why. She just was. Damn her and her stupid relationship issues.

"…I told you, you're the only thing I'm sure of right now."

Paige sucked in a breath: '_please, please stop talking_.' She was freaking out already and the fact that he was professing once more what he felt for her wasn't exactly helping.

Not. One. Bit.

Prying her hand away from his, she handed everything back.

"I- I can't take it, Mike."

He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yes, you can. It's a gift."

"No, it's not. It's - you're right, it's too much, too soon. I… I can't be tied down now, we've only started this thing. "

"Tied down? What are you…" Mike started, catching himself on the way as realization hit him. He closed his mouth, looking down at the stuff in his hands. "Oh…"

An awkward silence took over them. He should have known. How could have he been so blind not to predict it? Once again, his east coast polished version had kicked in and scared her away.

Back in Virginia, it was a rather common thing to spoil the girl you were going out with, even when you had no reason to.

However, most of the times, they'd all do that to get one thing: sex.

That wasn't usually the only purpose he'd do it for, although it had become a habit of his to intensify the amount of jewelry, candies and flowers during his last months in a relationship. Every time, he'd run out of things to talk about or to do, and he'd find himself trapped into a thing with a girl who had nothing to offer him, apart from casual sex.

But Paige was different. She was stimulating on so many levels, he knew he'd never get tired of her.

Buying her something had been a natural instinct of his; he hadn't thought about how she was used to casual and free, to non-commitment and hook ups.

He felt so stupid now.

"I'm sorry…" She murmured, the softness she used to caress his face taking him away from his thoughts. He covered her hand with his.

"No, I'm sorry. I gave you the wrong impression. I'm not trying to trap you into something you don't want. It's seriously just a gift - you don't have to wear it."

Paige looked at him for a brief moment, as he slipped his fingers between hers again. When she didn't reply, he crumpled everything in his fist and threw it away. The rattling sound of stuff scattering all over the floor echoed on the other side of the room, startling her: she looked at him, a silent question lingering in the air. '_What the hell?_'

"You know what? Forget it. Leave it there, throw it away for now. When you're ready and feel confident about this, maybe put it on. But if you don't, I won't care."

"Mike…" she sighed. "You know you will…"

"No, I won't. Look - I'm sorry, it's something I did spontaneously. I didn't think, and I should have." He took her chin and laid his forehead on hers, pecking her lips. "We'll take it slow."

Paige sighed once again. She had sighed more in these past few weeks with him than in her whole life. It wasn't fair.

He deserved everything he wanted, yet he was wasting his time after something as unstable as their _thing_. Maybe they should have kept it casual, hook up once in a while. All these doubts were killing her.

But if he - Mike Warren, the biggest nit-picking fusspot she had ever met - was willing to try, why couldn't she?

She could stand breaking her routine and tasting unknown waters, as long as he would hold her hand and face everything with her.

"You know why I chose the emerald?"

She shook her head. He ran his thumb over her eyebrow, pecking her lips once more. This time, he lingered a little longer than before.

"Your eyes." He explained.

Mike bit his lip, as she stared at him speechless, yet emotionless. He was sure he had gone too far this time. He had just made this weird speech about how they'd take it slow and next thing he knows, he's telling her how he chose a stone because of... _her eyes?_

He needed to work on his speaking abilities around her: she could make him spurt out whatever was on his mind and that was no good. Especially if he wanted to make this work without scaring her away, which seemed to happen way too often.

Before he could go and apologize again for his brave stupidity, Paige's laugh filled his ears. He watched as she threw her head back and fell against the wall, her hands holding her stomach in a fit of giggles.

It was his turn to look speechless: was she really laughing? At him?

"I... M-my eyes? Seriously? I-I can't believe y-you've just said that, Mike!" She managed to get out.

Mike felt his face getting hotter with each sound coming from her mouth. He chuckled sarcastically along with her, as he crawled up her body to shush her with a kiss.

"Ha - ha. I'm glad to know I'm such a great entertainer."

Pecking his lips back, she tried to stop herself from laughing. Something she was finding pretty hard to do.

"Sorry." She kept giggling, as he buried his face into her hair and breathed in deeply, hiding a smile.

At least she wasn't freaking out. That was a start, wasn't it?

"You're so soppy sometimes - it's actually cute how much of a cliché you can be."

Bending one knee, she wrapped her arms around his torso and kissed him chastely on the lips. She ran one hand through his growing hair, while he propped himself up on his forearms so not to crush her with his weight.

Paige had expected him to come out with a sarcastic remark, but he had gone quiet instead and was staring at her. Intensely. It kind of made her self-conscious, which rarely happened: she was naturally strong and confident, it wasn't fair he could make her feel like a little girl with just one blink of his eyes. Sometimes, she wanted to go back to his first days at Graceland, when he had been so green that it had been the complete opposite.

He had been the lamb and she had been the lion. Now, the roles were reversed.

However, she was unable to look away from his eyes - or from his face, for the matter. Lying this close to him, wrapped up into his arms, she couldn't help but notice the sprinkling of freckles across his nose: the California sun was already marking his white skin and turning him into a sexy surfer - even though he really didn't know anything about surfing. He was okay, average.

As Johnny always said, '_surfers are born, not made_'.

When Mike looked into her eyes once again, after having given her the once-over, his expression was even more intense, almost threatening.

For a moment, she thought she had gone too far with the teasing and had hurt him. But before she could ask him if he were mad, he yanked her to him and covered her mouth with his in an ardent and bruising kiss.

He was definitely _not mad._

**X**

Paul looked at his clock impatiently. It was well past 9 and they had agreed to move at 8.20.

Of course, if he had known Mike would have been so late, he would have slept a little longer. And yet, he knew how hard it was for him to wake up early!

Usually, Warren wouldn't be so inconsiderate, especially about such an important case like this one; he would always be on time, no matter the circumstances, even if he had spent the entire night awake, working on something else.

However, he had the strange feeling his unusual delay was due to the _hard_ effort put into working on _somebody_ else.

Unable to stand this any longer, he took the stairs two at a time, only to find Zelanski and Johnny at the top; a miserable, resigned look on their faces: he had sent them out to look for the kid, but apparently they hadn't had much luck.

"The bed's been made. He's probably there already to get ahead with the stuff." Wayne reasoned.

"Nah, dude. I called, nobody's showed up yet."

Both Zelanski and JT's words did nothing but confirm his suspects. He was sure the bed hadn't been used in the first place. At least, not _Mike_'s bed.

Paul clenched his fists, casting a look at Paige's door. He didn't know how or why it was happening, but their relationship was affecting this case a little too much. More than it should. Eventually, it'd end up affecting Graceland too.

He didn't want to, but if he were to realize this was becoming a possible threat for the success of the operation, he'd have to have a talk with Michael. A long, mentor chat.

However, he was rather relieved to see DJ approaching them, as pissed as himself: he had promised Paige he wouldn't have said anything, but he was pretty sure Jakes had busted them too. Maybe, he could manipulate a few things and push him to do the dirty work.

He opened his mouth to talk, but the black agent beat him, clearly irritated by the fact he had thrown himself out of the bed earlier than usual only to find the guy missing.

"Where is he?"

They all shrugged and, as Johnny and Wayne briefed him on how they had looked everywhere in the house but had had no such luck to find him, he turned to Briggs, even more pissed than before.

"You gotta be kidding me."

Paul raised his hands, acting unaware of what had been going on; however, the look they exchanged told otherwise.

Jakes shook his head, marching towards Paige's door and banging loudly on it.

"Yo, P! Open up!"

Johnny took a cautious step closer to him.

"C'mon man, we don't need her-"

Before he could finish his sentence, hustling noises came from the other side, followed by a thud, an imprecation and, finally, the creaking sound of the door opening.

Paige's head peeked from behind: her hair were completely ruffled, sticking in every direction, her lips swollen and puffy. She could've faked having just been woken up by Jakes punching on her door, had it not been for the pale pink sheet she was trying to hold into place to cover herself.

She looked out at the men in the hall, before casting a quick glance back inside.

"Dale? What- I've just come out of the shower…" She made up.

However, the unfazed look on her roommate's face made her regret the lame lie she had just fabricated.

"And your hair have magically managed to stay dry?"

"I…" She looked back at Mike, who shook his head and pulled himself up from the floor, using the side of her bed as a support. He laughed silently to himself, as he looked for his boxers and pants.

"LEVI!" Dale screamed, startling her. "You've got 5 mints to get yo' ass in the car."

Without a second glance, he turned on his heels and made his exit down the stairs, angrily muttering incomprehensible words on the way.

Paul raised his eyebrows at Paige's reddening face, as she opened her door wider and stepped aside to let a shirtless Mike out.

When he came into view, he didn't even glance at the agents outside: he simply zipped his pants up and cupped the back of Paige's head to surprisingly kiss her soundly on the lips; his mouth was so warm and the caress of his lips more prolonged and firmer than that of their usual morning kisses. He tentatively traced the outlines of her lips with his tongue, before pulling away; she gawked up at him, bleary-eyed, chewing on her lip.

"Good morning," he beamed at her, tapping her nose. He hid a grin, as he passed a speechless Johnny and an uneasy looking Zelanski, only to disappear briefly into his room to retrieve a fresh shirt.

"Wha- when?" Johnny managed to stammer out. Paige smiled sheepishly and awkwardly at him. She shrugged, quickly closing her door before she could be harassed and hit by a dolly shot of questions.

"You knew about this?" He turned to Paul, shocked; the older man raised his hands up once again, eyeing the door Mike had slipped through, skeptically. "I know as much as you do, John-boy."

"Why are you so surprised?" Wayne murmured, eyeing Paige's door instead. "She does want his kids after all?"

Johnny shook his head. "I thought they were code speaking or shit like that!"

"Well, obviously they weren't."

He watched as Mike hasted out of his room, whistling. He had always been a happy morning person, or at least that's what he had used to be like his first summer there. But after he had got back from DC, he had turned into this asshole who had that stick so far up his ass, it almost threatened to poke out of his mouth.

Today, he was happy. He was whistling. And he had this annoying, big anime-like smile on his face. It was irritating, literally. Especially after having assisted to his not so subtle '_walk of shame_' from Paige's room. _Paige_'s.

"C'mon, guys. Let's move!" Mike cheered, skipping down the stairs.

Johnny's eyes followed him in disbelief.

He was definitely going to be on his back and wouldn't give up until he had gotten every juicy detail.


	15. Small doubts, little wisdom

**Hello! This one is really more a filler than anything and I don't think it's good enough, but I don't have time to revise it - I'm in the middle of my exams. I hope you like it though! **

**- xo, Mel **

**P.S. Thank you everyone for reviewing! You really make my day :)**

**X**

"No, John!"

Mike pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, squeezing them tiredly. Maybe he should've just taken his own car, instead of letting Briggs driving him to the federal plaza.

He hadn't slept much, which probably hadn't been a good idea for what he was about to do - although he wouldn't really think of that as a problem, considering _why_ he had been up all night.

The real problem here was Johnny bothering him: since leaving Graceland, he had done nothing but annoying him with the same question throughout all the ride: _'is she a double D or just a D?'_

"Oh, c'mon! Don't be a jerk!" Johnny moaned, leaning over between his and Paul's seat. He squeezed Mike's shoulder vigorously. "Why you gotta be so mean to your bros? Share the wisdom, man!"

Mike rolled his eyes, casting a glance to the back of the car: he couldn't see Jakes properly, as he was sitting right behind him, but he met Johnny's eyes right away. He saw Zelanski slightly leaning forward to hear a possible confirmation of his friend's guessing.

He knew Johnny appreciated Paige wearing bikini's all the time - '_She's got a new bikini dude. Trust me, you're in the mood. It's worth it!'_ - but while that really didn't bother him, seeing as he knew there would never, ever be anything between two self proclaimed '_siblings_', the way Bates eyed her sent him into a jealous rage.

The poor guy didn't stand a chance with her, obviously, but he didn't need one more reason to ogle at her.

It was understandable, though: Paige was already a feast for the eyes herself, more details about her body would just mean more things to appreciate.

No.

No.

_No_.

"For the last time, I'm not telling you what size Paige is, alright?"

"Whatever, man. You're no fun!"

Mike chuckled to himself, soon followed by Briggs, as Johnny slumped into his seat; Jakes rolled his eyes at the sight: how could it be possible that he was the only one minding his own business in that car?

"C'mon John-boy, cut him so slack. He's tired. Aren't you, Mikey?" Paul looked at him with the corner of his eyes.

He shrugged. "Maybe. Nah. I feel pretty great, actually."

"Yeah, bet you do." Johnny grunted from the back, earning an amused look from Mike through the rear-view mirror.

Paul turned left and sped up; he could see the grey building of Headquarters in the distance: if he wanted to have a say in anything, this was the best time to do it.

No time for questions or further foreplay. Just the truth. Honesty. That's what he wanted from Mikey, else he'd have to jump into action so not to let all he had worked for blow up in his face.

"In all seriousness, Mikey. What are you doing with Paige?"

Mike's eyes went from staring out the windshield to fixing on his former mentor's figure: was he really doing what he thought he was doing? Questioning him about the nature of his relationship with Paige? Really?

He was no kid, he didn't need mentoring on this.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Paul threw a glance at him. "You gotta have a damn good reason to break the '_no love at Graceland' _rule. 'Cause if you don't, I highly recommend you let this be a one time thing."

He couldn't help but let out a sarcastic laugh instead: this was coming from the man who had broken every rule he had hypocritically set, from '_no secrets at Graceland_' to '_no love at Graceland_'.

He had lied about his addiction.

He had lied about Badillo.

He had lied about his relationship with Charlie.

Hell, the man was all lies!

"Are you for real?"

"Yes, the hell I am!" Briggs gripped the steering wheel tight, without taking his eyes off the road. Jakes worriedly glanced at him; Mike raised his eyebrows.

"Woah, Briggs. Why so jumpy?"

The elder shook his head. The kid was either playing stupid or simply wanted to get on his nerves more than he already was.

"This is a double-edged weapon." He reasoned, gaining his zen mood back. "One bad move and your personal life will get tangled up with the op. If that happens… you're screwed. _We_'re screwed."

Mike clenched his jaw.

He hated to admit that, but he could see where Paul was coming from. Of course, he had thought about that too before making his move and turn what had initially seemed to be a one night stand with Paige - a night of weakness and curiosity from both sides - into something more. Into a _relationship_.

He was well aware this could damage the operation, just like he was aware of the catastrophic consequences he would have to face had the operation collided with their romantic liaison.

"You know he's right, Mike." Zelanski meddled into the conversation between the two.

He breathed through his nose, closing his eyes. He knew that, he _feared_ that.

But nonetheless was he going to let that prevent him from doing what his guts told him to do. What his _heart_ ordered him to do.

"I know what I'm doing, guys. Don't you fret about that." He managed to get out calmly, even though their unrequited moralizing and irrelevant opinions were actually stirring his temper.

The car fell into an awkward silence, as none of them dared to speak up afterwords. Mike's words had come out coolly, yet fiercely, as if he were daring any of them to say one more thing about the matter; to judge his and Paige's reason and right mind.

He was starting to regret not listening to her: he had expected them to say every sort of thing, cracking jokes and stuff, but he hadn't expected them to take it this seriously.

After all, Briggs and Charlie had been involved with each other long before Mike made his come back to Graceland and nobody had said anything about that - he was sure they had all been aware of their affair, or at least thought the two were sleeping together.

Just like they had with him and Paige.

Either way, they hadn't been like this with the older agents. Maybe that was because they trusted Paul more than they trusted him. '_Even though he has proved before of not being that trustworthy_'.

Mike shook his head.

No. He wasn't going to regret it. He wasn't going to regret Paige. This was what he wanted. What _they_ wanted. He wasn't going to let them get into his head and make him doubt it.

Thankfully, it took them just 5 minutes to reach the parking lot. He didn't even let the car come to a full stop that he had already opened the door and jumped out.

He needed to get away from them and from their inquiring stares. Being undercover - working his ass off was something he would gladly do today.

Anything to take his mind off of this.

"I'ma head up to get the money first. I'll see you inside." He told them, making a quick turn towards the main entrance.

As he slithered his hands on his jacket, he felt a strong and firm grip on his arm. He looked down at his elbow quizzically, recognizing Jakes's hand. Darting his eyes up, he came face to face with the man.

"Don't mess with her, Mikey," the ICE agent darkly said. "Or I'ma have to whap your ass. Hurt you real bad - that sorta thing. And I'm sure you want that happenin' just as much as I do."

Mike nodded, taken aback.

Jakes had always been the one stepping aside and trying not to interfere with anybody's business in the house, not giving an actual fuck about twisted relationships, love affairs and gossip in general - although he had once frankly admitted to him of eavesdropping here and there when he could. _'__Well my ears are always open. Even if it doesn't look like I'm listening.'_

They didn't have that great of a friendship, but those few times they had talked had really made an impact on his life choices, as weird as it may sound.

Abby, Graceland, Briggs, the buses - no matter their mutual apparent impatience with one other, he had always been helpful when things had gotten too risky and complicated.

"It's serious." Mike confessed.

To anybody else, it would have sounded cryptical. But to Jakes? He was the walking and living version of an enigma. If there was one person you could talk to that way, that was him.

_It was serious, _indeed.

**X**

Paige skipped down the stairs, whistling, her fingers trading through her tangled locks as she tried to put her short hair into a small sized bun.

She had just had a relaxing warm shower to soothe her aching muscles - swaying back and forth between the sheets, jumping from an intense _hand-to-hand combat _to a cuddly afterglow during a passionate night with one hell of a companion was definitely a mind blowing experience, but it could seriously leave you into bits.

She had come apart into his arms a few too many times during the night and, as pleasant as it had felt at first, she was now facing the aftermath of their bravado on her own skin: she was on fire. Literally. Her thighs burned so much she was afraid she had actually pulled a muscle.

It was well worth it, though.

Last night had been one of the best nights of her life. Lustful sex aside, she had experienced the tenderness of a lifetime all at once, thanks to Mike.

_Mike_.

She smiled unconsciously as his face popped up into her mind: she barely recognized herself anymore; maybe she was going crazy, but what she was feeling in that moment was beyond anything else she had ever felt before, better than sex. Okay, maybe not, but it was still a really mind-boggling feeling.

She felt… peace. A word that had always been kept hidden under a great amount of dust in her vocabulary, due to her '_adventurous_' life.

"Why, someone's in a _happy_ mood today."

Paige jumped, dropping the bottle of water she had retrieved from the fridge and holding onto its door; she turned around, one hand spread out on her chest, facing Charlie.

Chuckling, she crunched down to collect her bottle.

"Jesus, you scared me - I thought you were all out."

Charlie dropped her keys onto the counter, sitting on a stool.

"I was just going to get groceries - does this have something to do with some FBI baby blues, perhaps? 'Cause I've heard rumors about an impressive morning kiss?"

Paige brought the bottle to her lips, quickly turning around to close the fridge and hide the faint blush from her female roommate who, on the other hand, grinned knowingly.

Even if the blonde DEA was to deny it, she already knew. A frantic Johnny had called earlier in the morning - it was past midday now - to let her know about the _sensational event of the century: _Mike and Paige had finally got it on.

She had gone along with it, acting as surprised as he apparently was - although she knew that he, out of all the people in the house, had thought all along the two were sleeping together.

It was no surprise at all: Mike had fallen for Paige the same night he had first met her; maybe he did that unconsciously, maybe he didn't even realize he was so deeply into her, but she had been there. She had witnessed the way the world around him had stopped existing - or even making sense to him - the very moment he had laid his eyes on her.

She had never seen anybody fall so hard and so quickly for someone in her whole life.

Yet, she hadn't ever seen anybody so bluntly trying to cover it up like Paige had either: Charlie knew she had fallen for Mikey too, maybe not instantly, but she had.

"Mhm, weren't you heading out?"

"Nah, that can wait. Why don't you sit down? How long has it been since we've had a nice girl talk?"

Paige eyed her skeptically, leaning back on the sink: she didn't like where this was going. It was exactly what she had wanted to avoid: someone trying to stick their nose into her business.

She knew that Charlie was just trying to be a good friend and let her take everything out, so not to feel the heaviness of her feelings eating her inside, but she wasn't one to talk about what was going on in her head, let alone in her heart.

Everybody knew that, including Mike: he should be the only one knowing about the burning sensation she felt every time he was anywhere near her, yet he had no clue. What made her think she'd tell her?

'_Maybe the same reason why you want to tell her_,' the small voice in the back of her head suggested.

Keeping everything inside was no good, she knew that - she had even told that to Mike when she had sensed he had been hiding something, back during the investigation on Briggs.

But she wasn't ready to share _it_ with the world, nor with Mike himself. Maybe Charlie was the best choice after all: apart from Jakes, she was the only who would actually keep what you'd tell her to herself - if you asked her to, of course. Because otherwise, she'd be the first in line with Johnny for some juicy gossip.

Sighing, she screwed the lid back on her bottle and shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm fine right here."

Charlie raised one eyebrow, impressed by how easily her blonde friend had given in. What was happening to her?

"Wow, he's really gotten to you, hasn't he?"

"Sorry?" Paige asked, confused.

"You're different. More relaxed and less reticent. Are you sure he hasn't spiked your drink or something?"

The DEA agent chuckled, shaking her head, before looking back at the dark haired woman.

"Positive. I'm just glad you're the first one pumping me for information. But honestly, if we really gotta have this conversation…" She reached back into the fridge and took out two cans of beer, rolling one on the counter till it fell into Charlie's hands. "…let's at least have one of these."

The two shared a knowing smile, as Paige went to sit next to her and opened the can. They both took a sip, before they picked up their conversation again; Charlie was the first to speak up.

"So… you and Mikey, uh? 't was about time, girl."

"I had a feeling you'd say that."

"Uh uh." Charlie took another sip. "We've waited for you two to hook up for so long now."

Paige mimicked her, a playful smile on her lips as the yellow liquid slinked away through them. "I'm surprised you didn't place any bets."

"Who says we haven't?" The FBI agent winked at her side.

Shaking her head, Paige put her can down and crossed her arms on the counter, leaning her cheek on the crook of her elbow to look up at her. There was something secure about talking to Charlie.

Even though they were just a few years apart, she really was a mother figure for her: she always knew what to say, what to do - and most of all, she always had great advices to hand out.

She had saved her ass in several occasions, maybe she could save her from this spiral of mixed up feelings she had fallen into, too.

"It feels so surreal, Chuck." She confessed. "It's… weird."

"How so?"

"He makes me _feel_ weird. Different. I don't feel like myself when I'm around him."

Charlie nodded, furrowing her eyebrows, as she turned sideways to look down at her roommate.

"And you don't like it?"

Paige shook her head. "I do. It's just… nobody has ever made me feel like that. It's scary."

Wow. Saying it out loud sounded even scarier than she had thought. Yet, she experienced a great relief and comfort in knowing she didn't have to keep that burden anymore. That somebody was going to explain to her _why_ that scared her; to push her towards the right direction and help her confess it to Mike too.

But Charlie wasn't saying anything. She was quiet, maybe a little too much, reflecting on her words longer than she had thought she would have. Paige bumped her head on the counter, covering it with her arms, and moaned in frustration.

"Gee, why does it have to be so complicated?"

She didn't get any reply. Some sort of relaxing silence fell upon them, letting both girls getting lost into their thoughts.

Charlie knew exactly what her girl friend was going through. She had experienced it first hand when she had developed feelings for Paul. Being in their position, doing what they do - it made everything seem much more complicated than it actually was.

When you're used to violence, harshness, death - when you're used to dealing with so much pain, you don't really know what to do when happiness comes knocking at your door.

She grasped Paige's shoulder, grabbing her attention.

"There's nothing complicated about it, Paige. If he makes you happy, you go for it. Without further hesitation. Life's too short to waste it wondering. Especially for us."

The DEA agent nodded thoughtfully, moving her head to stare in front of her. Images of Mike laying in that sad hospital bed - in that narrow hospital room flashed through her mind. The angst she had felt back then tickled those memories, pushing her to reminisce about the shots of fear and pain she had been subject to when the words '_Mikey's been stabbed; he's in the OR right now, might take a while until he's taken off the danger list - you better come soon_' had rung into her ears.

Thinking about that still made her sick to her stomach. Nearly losing him had been one of the most devastating and overwhelming experiences of her entire life. If that's what Charlie was referring to - and of course, that was it -, she agreed with her. Fully. 1000%.

Screw her doubts, screw her fears: the only fear that truly mattered was that of losing him to some heartless Jangles or viscid Caza - Solano wasn't going to be a problem. Because Mike was going to catch him. She knew it.

It was true, that cliché about '_you don't know what you have and how much it means to you until you lose it_': having Mike half a continent away from her had done nothing but confirm her suspicious feelings for him. Initially, she had thought about a school girl crush due to his sexy rockstar status he had acquired after the Bello bust - the same status he had complained about on the beach his second night back at Graceland; the one that had pushed the suits back in DC to '_stick him behind a desk_'.

But after risking to lose him again to Solano's unexperienced hitmen - after experiencing once again that sickening and helpless pain, she had realized it couldn't be a simple crush. It was something deeper, even deeper than a brotherly affection, like the one she had for Johnny.

She didn't know what it was yet, although in the back of her mind, she _feared_ she actually knew what it was. But that's where that suspicion would stay for now, in the depths of her forgotten subconscious. She wasn't ready to face it, not yet at least.

First and foremost, she wanted to enjoy the uncontrollable passion and the breathtaking bliss of their _thing t_hey had just started - that light giddiness and appealing excitement everybody feels during the first phase of a relationship.

A sudden smile creeped up on her face as realization hit her slowly.

"He does make me happy. All those men I've dated - they all treated me like a woman, made me _feel_ like a woman and nothing more. A fine piece of eye candy to carouse with. He doesn't. He makes me feel like… a _girl_. Like I deserve to be cherished like some precious flower, you know?" She bit her lip, looking up at her friend. "I know it's stupid, because I can take care of myself, but it's nice to know there's someone who actually cares about me _that_ much."

Charlie nodded.

Paige might have been the most insecure but confident person she had ever met: she was just as soft in the inside as hard she appeared to be on the outside. She deserved someone who could show her that she was worth more than what all those men made her seem to be; someone who could respect her and treat her the way she deserved to be treated. Someone who wouldn't use her just because of her pretty face.

She stroked her hair back affectionately. "It's not stupid, it's _human_."

And if there was one person worthy of the task, that was Mikey.

Paige bore her eyes into hers. Green met brown - a serious spark glistening in her eyes, as her lips formed words that had been floating around in her heart for days now - weeks.

"That's exactly what he makes me feel like. _Human_."


	16. Blessings of the broken Hyperuranium

"**Hello! This one is readily long! I have 4 exams coming up in the next 2 weeks, so I don't know if I'll upload (which however I should be able to do, since I have 2/3 chapters written already. I might not be able to edit them though, so… more and more grammar mistakes coming up!).**

**This one focuses a little more on the human trafficking issue, especially from Paige's perspective. I used bits of Serinda Swan's interviews during the season 2 "press tour" (I wish there was one!).**

**I really admire Serinda as a person and as a human being. She has the biggest heart and the most beautiful and honest soul. Check out friendstomankind org (I can't post the whole link but I'm pretty sure you're smart enough to figure it out lol) and their AMAZING word. 3**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy it and maybe leave me some feedback?**

**THANK YOU ALL FOR REVIEWING!**

**- xo, Mel **

**X**

"_He's clean."_

"_Trust is good for both of us."_

"_Where are the girls?"_

"_Let's take a ride."_

…

"_Welcome."_

"_Where do they come from?"_

"_I don't know, where all the girls come from. Starks. - That's my newest."_

"_I'll take her."_

"_A man knows what he wants."_

…

"_Alright, here's the truth: this is just a sample I'm buying. Our clients would like to have more, but they want to test the product first."_

"_That's not possible, don't be greedy."_

"_I'm not. But they are. They want to establish a partnership. That means lots of money."_

"_No."_

"_Take a look at this. It's 250.000 dollars. It would be a down payment, we'll call it a layaway plan."_

"_I'm listening."_

"_The girls can't leave with me but that doesn't mean I can't still buy them from you."_

"_I have to ask my boss."_

"_Fair enough - I know this doesn't buy the girls exiting. When the girls leave with me, you get the rest of the money."_

"_And the fish stay here, until my boss say they can swim away."_

"_And so does the cash. And so do I."_

"_When you sign a layaway plan, you don't sleep with the product."_

"_This is a lot of money."_

"_And this isn't a hotel."_

"_Our clients want their product undamaged and healthy. I need to protect their interests and their investment."_

"_You."_

"_That's what they're paying me for."_

"_I'll talk to my boss - take your money back. I'll call you when I get word from him."_

…

Mike rubbed his temples, as he followed Briggs through Graceland's main entrance; Johnny, Jakes and Zelanski trailing behind him.

He had had to sit through a pretty loud lecture from Jess and now he had just gotten out of a car where Briggs had been on the verge of shooting him in the head. He was _that_ pissed.

What he had done in Sylmar had been a wild pitch, he was well aware of that - he knew it could've ended pretty badly for him. He could've gotten himself killed, but he had followed his guts. He had handled things in the moment. Just like he had had many times before. Why was it such a big deal for him?

His cover was safe; the new plan was working.

He was going to catch Carlito, finally.

"Hello?! We're back!" Paul screamed, slamming the front door open and storming into the living room. Mike followed soon behind, giving him an annoyed stare. He could see where Jess was coming from - not being used to the undercover life and all. But Briggs? _Paul Briggs_? He had seen worse. He had _done_ worse. That left him with no right to lecture him about the way he'd decided to do his job.

He stood on the steps that led to the couch, watching Jakes and Johnny flopping down on the cushions. Zelanski quietly shut the door, popping his right shoulder on the way: he had held his weapon for three hours straight, ready to bust in in case Mike fucked up - he almost wished he had, just so he could have had some fun getting into action.

Charlie's was the first to appear out of the kitchen. A serious look on her face when she eyed Paul, harshly. Maybe Mike wasn't the only one seeing things: maybe Charlie knew _why_he had been so jumpy lately. He needed to have a little chat with her later on.

"How'd it go?"

Briggs sunk into the lawn chair by the window, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Perfect: say hi to our hero of the day here. Mike Warren, everybody! - He almost blew his cover!"

Mike put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows.  
>"Oh fuck that, Briggs! I knew what I was doing!"<p>

"Really, Mike? Did you really?" He sprung back up; one leg on each side of the chair, straddling it. Charlie held her hands up.

"Alright, time-out!" She looked back and forth between the two, before adding. "What happened?"

Mike was about to open his mouth, when Paul deliberately raised his voice to toss his attempt at defending himself aside. Mike looked at him in disbelief: he knew his ex mentor had a '_quarterback syndrome_', as Chuck loved to put it, but this… this was just wrong. He was exaggerating.

"Our boy here decided it was a rather good idea to change his plans on the spot, at the very last minute, and to say '_screw the signal, screw the raid, let me fuck everything up_'-"

"That's not how it went and you know it!" Mike bursted out in exasperation. Briggs held his hand up, sending him a flinty, steel-eyed stare.

"That's exactly what you did: you renounced to Foster's plan, went against the _Bureau's_ _orders_ - you endangered the op, yourself and all of us and you kept the damn place open!"

Mike clenched his fists and took two steps forward, ready to tackle the older man: Jakes quickly sat up, with Johnny doing the same on his side; Zelanski leapt down the steps, reaching one hand up to grab him by the shoulder.

He didn't have to though, as Mike froze into place and squeezed his eyes shut, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he almost drew blood from it.

"…what?"

_Paige_.

Wonderful. Nice job, Briggs.

He had spent the entire ride escaping from his talking-to by thinking about how to break the news to her; how to make her understand this was the best thing he had come up with to save all the girls _and_ the operation.

He knew she would have sworn at him at first, called him names, hit him, kicked his ass - she probably wouldn't have talked to him for a while and, as much as he hadn't wanted that to happen, especially after finally talking things through _together,_he had come to the conclusion that telling her himself would have been the best option, instead of letting her find out from somebody else.

He wanted to be the one to tell her, not Briggs or anybody else in the house. But of course, every time he would make plans in Graceland, they'd always end up being blown.

Only this time, he was sure his head was going to be blown off with them.

**X**

Paige ran her fingers through her hair, pacing back and forth. Millions of thoughts rushed through her mind as Mike closed the french doors behind him, to give them some privacy.

He glanced back over his shoulder and, surely enough, all of their roommates were strategically seated in the living room. They were pretending not to be watching them, but they were clearly eyeing their entire discussion, even though it was technically impossible to hear a word from there.

"Tell me it's not true; tell me you didn't almost sell your soul to those bastards." Paige's soft plead took him from his thoughts and he looked back at her: he could see the anger building up into her eyes and loosened the collar of his shirt, sensing a fight coming.

"Paige…"  
>"No!" She exclaimed. "Don't 'Paige' me! Are you out of your goddamn mind? What did you think you were doing?! They could've killed all the girls!"<p>

"My cover was strong - you should thank Charlie that I'm still alive." He tried, even if getting away with this without fighting with the blonde beauty was nothing but a dream. _Changing the subject_ was nothing but a very, very distant dream.  
>"Oh well, <em>you<em>will need to thank her later then! - You fuckin' idiot: bullets could've started flying in the blink of an eye, had they had any suspect of you being a fed!"

"Well, you should be glad that didn't happen." Mike retorted, furrowing his eyebrows: he knew she cared a hell of a lot about the girls but seriously? He had been there too - his life had been at risk too!

Paige set her jaw and scowled at him; for a moment, his eyes got distracted by the tight contour line of her cheek and he wondered what she'd feel like wrapped around him in a furious session of angry sex. He shook his head and himself back to reality when she stopped pacing and held her fist up to him.

"I swear to God, Mike, they'll start flying now if you keep acting like a freaking ass to me!"

"Look, I needed to get eyes in there one way or another and-"

"And of course you had to act like a fucking hero and put your life at risk!" Paige gave his chest a hard push, smacking him back into the glass; he let his arms fall at his sides, closing his eyes in annoyance.

…

_Johnny flinched, enjoying the scene from his spot on the couch._

"_Ouch, fiesty P is back!"_

_Charlie smacked his head. "Stop acting like a child and focus on the lip reading!"_

_Briggs drank from his bottle of rum. "Look at them. It's been what? Barely a day? - There are already trouble in paradise." He shook his head disapprovingly._

_He knew they had lasted more than a day - hell, for all he knew this thing could've started the summer the kid had arrived. But as predicted, it was taking a very, very bad turn._

…

"Can you just let me finish for once?!" Mike pleaded, exasperatedly.

"Not when you're trying to sell me your bullshit!"

Paige braced herself to hit him again, but he promptly grabbed her wrists, shoving her back; she stumbled backwards on the wooden porch, the railing preventing her from falling flat on her ass. She glared at him: he had felt guilty the very minute the first spurt of strength had left his body to push hers back, but she had left him no choice. She was just driving him nuts, for real this time. And unfortunately, it had nothing to do with the sexual sphere, at all.

"It's not bullshit!Paige, everything burned. Literally. All the evidence, burned. Carlitos gone. That place is the last link I have to the Solano Cartel and these guys that are protecting him; to that damn cop or whoever it is that tipped off Carlito that we were gonna be there!" He opened his arms wide, finishing his speech off with a sarcastic laugh; he let his arms fall, but kept his eyes firmly on her.

"The price is too high, Mike! You gotta shut that place down, those girls-"

When he shook his head, Paige pushed herself off the railing to walk closer to him. She seriously wanted to punch him in the face.

"I've got everything under control, nothing's gonna happen to them, okay? We just have to wait until Sulla gets a hold of Carlito - I got his number, we're tracing every call-"

"That's not enough! We don't know how long it's gonna take, Mike, and the girls that are in there-"

"We're gonna have it surrounded. The girls aren't going anywhere."

She gaped at him, speechless. He didn't get the point, did he? Those girls were trapped. They were like wounded mice surrounded by a gang of cats; they could try to escape just to get killed in the end, but that wasn't the only thing depriving them of their human rights: they were being beaten up, tortured, sold to disgusting men who would have just fooled them. They would have appeared like saviors to them - giving them hope that where they were going was better than where they had been - only to shove them in a hell circle. Probably worse than the one they had come from.

No. Surrounding the place with people who could help them - but wouldn't without Mike's green light - was just stupid and useless. He _had to_shut that place down.

"But that doesn't stop what's happening to them in there!"

"I can't shut it down now, Paige! This thing is bigger than we ever thought, alright? It's bigger than those girls, it's bigger than the buses… it's bigger than us!"

Bile rose up in her throat and realization hit her like a sucker punch in the guts: he was just pretending to want to shut the place down, but he wasn't going to. He was going to keep it open - he _wanted_ to keep it open. He wasn't planning on making a move until he had gotten his hands on the Solano's. Because that was _the last link_ he had.

_Us._

Paige wanted to scream, claw at her face, shoot her leg - anything to get rid of this virtual pain she was feeling for having just started a serious relationship with someone who was willing to trade those girls's lives and their freedom with the one of a drug lord.

She was disgusted with herself for having slept with the one man who could help them but wouldn't out of some selfish instinct to use their forced captivity at his own benefit. '_To make himself a rockstar again.'_

"God, Mike. You want to keep that place running until you get to Carlito…"

Mike sighed, straightening his back and putting his hands on his hips; he leaned over to her, closing his eyes.

"I have to."

_Sciaff. _

At this point, the slap she had just given him had been wanted - desired - _craved_.

When Mike reopened his eyes, moving his jaw around and grasping it between his fingers, he knew he had deserved it: he was stating his point, obviously, but he was doing it with such thoughtlessness that he had almost ignored the fact that these girls had been Paige's case. It had been her idea to bring Solano down that way.

She had handed him the keys to his future success - she had trusted him with them - and all he was doing now was basically pulling ranks, imposing his choices on her. He wasn't asking her to understand the reason why he had acted like he had, he was _ordering_ her to.

Her. Paige.

The one that was more than just a part of his team now. The one person in the house that meant more than anybody else to him. What the hell was he doing?

He went to grasp her hand in his, but she retrieved it, raising her voice.

"These aren't drugs and guns - these are girls! And they're locked up in there like cattle! You're playing with their lives!" Paige screamed at him.  
>"NO! They are playing with their lives, I'm trying to <em><span>save<span>_ their lives. It's different." Mike spat back, indignant about the fact that she had even been able to compare him to those monsters. Did she really think that little of him? Didn't she know him at all?

Paige let out a dry, bitter laugh, and rolled her eyes.

She wouldn't let him play the hero now because he was no hero: he was keeping those girls trapped in a world of rape and violence, he was _responsible_for his actions and he had to face the consequences that came with his stupidity.

"Oh no, you're trying to save yourself! You _got lost_again and you're using them to prove to yourself you're not a loser but you know what?! They can't pay for your mistakes, Mike! You can't sacrifice their lives just because you _are_a loser, damn it!"

An excruciating and sharp twinge of pain shot through Mike's heart when the force and disgust with whom she voiced the word _loser_reached his ears.

It wasn't the word itself that had hurt, but the fact that it had come from her. From Paige. From the woman that had always been on his side no matter what and that was now shutting him out of her life again - probably forever.

He watched as her stony eyes welled up with angry tears. He wanted to reach up and catch them falling from her lashes, wiping them from her cheeks - but he wouldn't.

He knew he wouldn't and he knew he _couldn't_. He had lost the right to do so when he had betrayed her trust.

She moved closer and side stepped him to go back inside - to hide from him and the pain he had caused her. One thought fluttered in his mind. Maybe he hadn't just lost the right to comfort her.

_Maybe he had just lost her._

**X**

What had started like a perfect day, had soon turned out to be one of the worst days since Graceland had gone operative.

Charlie fastened her robe, a towel wrapped around her head as she stood in front of the mirror ready to brush her teeth: it had been a long day, not only for her but for everybody in the house.

Johnny had been in and out after being back from Sylma. He had tried getting a hold of Carlito, but Solano seemed to have vanished into thin air; Paul… well, Paul was Paul. She wished she knew what was going on in that head of his, but after their last conversation - which had soon turned into a fight - she had gone back to her room and things had strained between the two.

Something she feared was going to happen to the new lovebirds of the house too. She hated to admit it, but Paige was right: Mike had quite the hard on for the case; if he didn't play his cards right, he would have gotten himself and all the girls killed and, had his suspects been right, Graceland would get burned too if the insider was really a cop.

_Thud_.

Charlie's ears perked up: it was four in the morning; even though the occupants of the house had really weird and different time schedules, it usually was pretty quite at that time of the night. Especially after such tiring and eventful days like that one.

Setting her toothbrush back into the cup, she rushed out in the hall to get ready and to prevent the umpteenth fight between Johnny and a drunken Dale. As she did so, she collided with a small, yet strong body.

She reached her arms around Paige and held her into place to keep both of their balance. Paige chuckled, patting her shoulder.

"I love you too, Chuck!"

Charlie released her with a playful smile.

"Watcha doin' sitll up?"

"Couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind right now." The blonde agent murmured, looking down. Charlie's smile faded into a sad one and finally into a frown.

She knew how passionate she was about this particular case; even if it didn't seem so, Paige was extremely sensitive about human rights and freedom. That had been in fact one of the many reasons she had joined the agency for.

Because human trafficking was the second-largest criminal enterprise in the world, DEA agents were very well versed in the situation, and the worlds often collided. As a DEA agent, she was briefed on human trafficking and knew what to look for and knew what the signs were for drug mules, because the two went hand in hand.

It was something that Paige was very aware of, but hadn't faced yet. So while the intelligence on the situation was there, her heart wasn't ready for what she had encountered when the issue of Sylmar had blown up in her face.

Charlie had heard from Jakes she had made promises to that girl that she may or may not be able to keep: she was ready to do anything to keep those girls alive, with or without Mike's help.

And how could she not agree with her? Charlie herself had been in her position before. With Whistler.

She had taken it even further than Paige and Mike had: she had shot up heroin, both to nail that asshole who had killed the CI she had at heart the most and to lessen her pain. For his loss and for her failed attempt at saving him from that twisted world.

But Paige still hadn't done much to destroy herself - except pushing Mike away. She was still in time to do some good without necessarily hurting herself in the process.

The FBI agent squeezed her hand.

"Alright. But don't stay up too late, okay? Need your beauty sleep."

Paige smiled, returning her squeeze, and started descending the stairs.

"Thanks, Charlie."

Charlie was amazing. She was truly the best one out of everybody in the house: she was able to fight you off in the worst ways, come up with the most horrible punishments, yet she was also blessed with that hard thing called _forgiveness_. As long as you were honest with her and admitted your mistakes, she didn't care if you apologized or not; she would still forgive you. Paige wished she had that kind of patience.

Because as she reached the end of the stairs and moved to get out on the beach - to relax in the chilly night air - she noticed the lights on in the kitchen and a blond head hunched over the scattered papers on the counter.

She fidgeted in her place, debating whether or not passing by and purposely ignoring him: it would have taken her just three seconds of her life to do that and be safely outside.

However, regaining her confidence, she walked to the fridge, standing right in front of him, and slammed it open to bring out a late midnight/early morning snack.

Even though she wasn't hungry. She was _angry. _

Mike was sitting on a stool, furiously scribbling down notes and strategies they could've used for the case. He had felt her standing there, but decided to ignore it. It was late, his head was killing him and he still had yet to finish all the paperwork: fighting with Paige was the very last thing on his to-do list in that moment.

"You still up?"

He sighed. Obviously, she wasn't as tired as he was. Maybe he should've just asked her to help him with that bureaucratic shit; she had so much energy after all and he had none left.

Again, if they hadn't been in such a strained phase of their new relationship - if they even had one still-, he was sure she would have sat down and done half of the job for him. And he wouldn't have even had to ask.

He shook the thought out of his head, moving some papers around and writing down an address.

"Yeah… trying not to _get lost_, you know."

Paige laughed - she had her back to him, but he could clearly see and hear the sarcasm both from her body language and the raspiness of her voice, as she gripped a knife and tapped it on the sink.

"I'm not apologizing for what I said, Mike."

Mike looked at the curve of her back: the black shirt she was wearing barely reached the middle of her back, exposing two cute back dimples and a fair amount of golden skin. Skin he knew - for a fact and from experience - being extremely silky and soft.

He had always been a back dimples kind of guy - found them cute and sexy on girls. But on Paige? They drove him crazy. He had never been immune to her beauty, just like any other straight men she'd cross paths with, but that first night - when he had been so lucky to have her in his arms for the first time, he had felt them under the pad of his fingers and had come to the conclusion that she wasn't just hot.

She was all around perfect; an excellent combination of charm and brains.

The sound of a knife chopping strawberries and peaches into pieces brought him back to the reality of the situation and he snapped out of the hypnotic illusion he had fallen into.

His eyes darted back to his task and he gripped the pen a little tighter, so not to lose his focus and get distracted.

He had to get a hold of himself and stay away from the trap she was setting for him.

"Nor am I for what I did."

Paige gripped the knife in her hand as well and took a deep breath.

"I'm having a hard time trying not to finish off what Jangles started, right now."

She heard him snorting behind her back. Sighing, she moved around to wash the sticky juice off the blade.

"You're buttshit crazy for not shutting Sulla down."

Mike lowered his head and rubbed his eyes: they were burning, his head was pounding and his tongue was itching to let annoyed words roll off of it.

"Sulla is our only connection with Carlito." He reminded her.

"You have pictures of drugs, buses, papers and you could've traced your money back to him. You don't need-"

"I need everything I can get. And Sulla works for Carlito - his buy plan is the second biggest thing we can charge him with."

This was ridiculous. But it was true: girls get smuggled using drugs and then sometimes they get sold or whatever it is. She had heard many, many different stories of them coming into the U.S. with hopes and dreams that would be shattered in pieces by monsters like Carlito Solano. As they were speaking, there were over 100 thousand of them in the US.

And they had 75 of them trapped in that damn place at Sylmar. And they were doing nothing.

_He_ was doing nothing.

"D'you know what's actually happening in there now?"

"Paige-"

She interrupted him with something close to a murmur, gripping the bowl in her head so tight her knuckles turned white. She was trying to hold it back, she really was. But he wasn't making it easy on her.

"No, Mike-"

"I don't like the costs of this either." He tried once more to make her understand this was for the best.

"You don't even know the costs!"

"Yes, I do."

"Then act like it!" Paige let her bowl fall into the sink; the metal sound of the impact echoed in the suddenly silent kitchen.

Mike pierced her back with his stare, fire flashing in his eyes. This was stupid: she should be by his side, fighting them; she shouldn't be fighting him. She should be kicking those guys's asses, not his. She should be holding on tight and clenching her teeth until this was all over, not going all crazy mad on him.

He knew this was wrong but he had a huge stake in making this work - in winning, in bringing Solano down and all the other Cartels to come.

Mike had joined the FBI because_he believed there was evil in world and he was gonna fight it_ - _and win_. Just like she had. He hadn't expected her to throw herself at him because of what he did - of course she was going to get mad, he knew it. He just didn't expect her to be _this_ mad.

Paige had always been the one that understood him better than anyone else. She knew him better than himself; so the fact that she didn't understand _this_ part of him - his mission - pissed him off and…

"Christ, Paige! Do you think I enjoy doing this? I want this over and done with just as bad as you do! You act like I'm the one kidnapping and beating girls into a pulp, just to sell them off to pigs and rapers! I'm working my ass off to try to find the quickest way out, but I can't rush it. You know I can't!" …and he lost it.

As his last words bounced off the kitchen walls, he watched Paige's figure stay still; she didn't move, nor said anything. He almost wondered if she had stopped breathing. A thought that crossed his mind for less than a minute: he was too far gone now; might as well spit it all out and get it off his chest. At least, she wasn't going to have any reason to complain about him not being honest.

"Do you want them dead? Is that what you want? 'Cause if that's the case, here, take Harold's phone!"

Mike reached in the left pocket of his black sweatpants and grabbed his undercover phone, handing it out to her, even though she couldn't see him.

"Here! Tell Sulla who I am! Tell them right away what our plans are, so you'll find your girls lined up and dead by tomorrow!" He barked, raising his voice, only to lower it to almost an angry whisper when he realized he'd have woken up everybody in the house, had he yelled any louder. "God, you're so busy loathing me that you're missing the whole point here: if we don't get all the guys, there will just be more girls!"

Paige didn't move, not an inch. She stood there, with her back facing him and her hands clutching her bowl of fruit. Mike took a moment to regain his composure and catch his breath.

When calm had finally made its way back into his body, he squinted his eyes, suddenly feeling empty and cold - he felt less heavy, having just shared what he had been meaning to tell since the moment she had attacked him, but at the same time it just didn't feel right.

Somehow, he wanted her to fight back - show him that she cared about the girls _and_ about him.

But there she stood. Motionless.

Sighing, he stood up and joined her at the sink, circling the kitchen island that had been keeping them apart. He cupped the side of her neck with one hand and turned her around: she had been staring at the chopped fruit in her bowl all along, her head low.

"Paige…"

He brushed his thumb on her chin, gently pulling her face up: he could feel the dampness of her skin as he placed his hands fully upon her cheeks and stared into her tear filled eyes; long, glistening streams flowing down.

"I promised her… I - I told her I wouldn't leave her…"

His heart ached at the sight of her quivering lips, as she tried to hold back her sobs.

"Oh, Paige. Damn it, if only I had known what she looked like… I'd have chosen her to bring with me. I'm so sorry."

Wrapping his arms around her, Mike pulled her onto his chest. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her temple. He felt like an asshole for having been so hard on her; no - he was an asshole. He knew how much she cared, he should have been more careful with his choice of words.

"No - it's not your fault, it's mine. I get why you did what you did. I do, I really do. Just don't ask me to accept it, 'cause I can't. I - I can't agree with a plan like that. You, the girls.. I- Oh, God…"

"Shh, it's alright, you don't have to. This - whatever happens, it's all on me. You're not responsible for anything." Mike breathed into her ear, tightening his grip on her.  
>"Yes, I am! I didn't keep my promises! And I took it out on you, said things I shouldn't have, slapped- "<p>

As Paige frantically clawed at his back, grasping his shirt to have something to hold on to - to have something to keep her from completely falling apart in front of him, Mike took her face in his hands, brushing her hair back to bore his eyes into hers.

"Hey, hey. Look at me - you didn't break your promise. You're a great agent, Paige. You did everything you could in that moment, but mark my words: we'll get Lina out. We will." When she nodded imperceptibly, eyes welled up, he murmured a faint '_okay_' and kissed her forehead. She slid back into his embrace, nestling into his chest. "I'm gonna get'em out of there. All of them. If it's the last thing I ever do."

"Mike…"

Finally, Paige broke down. He felt that same sharp pain in his chest, only this time it didn't come from his offended pride or damaged soul - it came from her: she was so fragile, weak - scared. Words he had never thought of using to describe someone like Paige.

She had been his rock when he had been lost; she had been his rock when he had been in troubles; she had been his rock when he had freaked out. She had always been the strongest one.

He hated to see her like this.

But it was now time to repay her for all that strength: it was time for him to be _her rock_.

"Shh, I'm here. I got you. Shh."

**X**

_5.15AM_

Mike was pretty sure he had never worked this late before. Not even when he had been Bello's driver and guard; not even when he had been in DC.

He set the pen down and looked at the 4 pile of papers laying in a messy order in front of him: being back at Graceland was changing him again - he wasn't going to go back to his old _rookie_status, but surely enough Johnny's messy side had started to infect him.

He rubbed the sleep off his tragically burning eyes and headed towards the stairs, sticking a note on the fridge: the past days had been stressful for all of them, so a full day off was very much deserved.

He passed by Paige's closed door and bit his lip: the light was off, signaling she had finally managed to fall asleep. '_That's good_', he thought.

Earlier on, after she had finally cried all her tears and gave vent to her inner feelings, he had suggested she went to bed and tried to get some sleep; she had resisted at first, but eventually given in.

Cracking his neck, Mike diverted his eyes from her wooden door and walked to his room: he didn't know if that scene in the kitchen was meant to be the end of their fight or - worst case scenario - of their newborn relationship.

He would just let it go for now and wait until she came around; given the circumstances, she wasn't really being herself at the moment.

However, when he closed the door behind his back and blinked into the darkness of his room, the breath caught in his throat: there, curled up on the left side of his bed, was Paige.

He could see the even movements of her chest rising up and down as she slept in a somewhat painful, yet peaceful way, tangled up in his lime green cotton sheets.

Paige wrestled in her sleep and she wasn't afraid to admit it, nor ashamed to. He would have never shared this with her, but he _loved_ it. She'd kick him repeatedly through the night and he'd just keep pulling her closer to him. He loved it because that was Paige; because she'd bring excitement in his life and made him feel alive. She was his daily rush of adrenaline.

That was why collecting the broken pieces of her soul had been so painful for him before.

Mike let his eyes linger on her sleeping form for a few minutes, before finally joining her in the bed; he hadn't expected her to be there; he had thought she'd go back to her room, just like she had previously done.

Instead, she had come to him once again. This had to mean something, right?

He pressed himself closer to her back. Moving her hair to expose her skin, he leaned down to press a soft kiss on the hollow between her neck and shoulder. He secured her body into his arms, resting his hand on her folded ones on the pillow. It curved perfectly into his embrace, as his nose brushed against the back of her neck and her hair tickled the side of his face.

He was going to catch those guys. No, scratch that - he was going to help _her_ catch those guys, because this was all her. If Mike was gonna win this fight, she had to be there savoring_their_ victory.

Paige's hand moved underneath his to let his fingers slip between hers; their grasp resting intimately on her pillow. Mike breathed in the scent of her hair, as sleep quickly seized both of them.

It was all her and always would be.


	17. Soaring heart of lonely eagles

**Hello! Thank you all for your feedback! I made this long 'cause as I said I don't know when I'll be able to update. I've only given it one quick read. So I apologize for every mistake you'll find.**

**I got the title for this chapter from a quote I found on the internet a while ago and that resembled how I envisioned Mike and Paige's relationship in this story:  
>"<em>When a storm is coming, all other birds seek shelter. The Eagle alone, avoids the storm by flying above it. So, in the storms of life… May your heart soar like an Eagle<em>."**

**It's also how I think they are as persons: two lonely eagles who can only seek comfort and feel good when around each other. **

**You all know by now that I'm a sucker for romance and drama lol**

**Let me know what you think ;) Enjoy!**

**X**

Mike bursted through the kitchen, still tired from the night before. Even though he had worked late hours and only got one hour of sleep, he had woken up at sunrise and went for a run. For two main reasons: firstly, he needed to clear his head and think about the imminent call that he would get from Sulla - a call that could change his life and his career forever, for better or for worst; it all depended on Carlito's more than likely greediness - and secondly, the blonde beauty who had been fast asleep in his bed.

Not that he wanted to get away from her. Sleeping next to her always made him look forward to waking up the next day and do better - _be better_. But considering the events of the previous day, he didn't know whether she still wanted him to be the first thing she'd see in the morning.

It didn't matter that she had willingly slept in his bed, in the safety of his arms: he wouldn't read too much into it until she'd explicitly tell him things were fine between the two of them.

He patted Johnny on the back as he passed by him and met Charlie's eyes on his way to the fridge. He opened it and took a bottle of water out, along with a yogurt. Opening the drawer on the left, he took out a spoon and peeled the lid off his creamy morning snack.

"Morning - did y'all get my note?"

"Yeah, thank God, Mikey." Charlie pulled her hair in a loose ponytail; a tired look on her face. She winked at him and he simultaneously puckered his lips to send her an air kiss.

"I was starting to wonder if I even had a social life anymore." Johnny whined, flipping two pancakes in the air and catching them in his fizzling pan.

Mike raised his eyebrows, impressed by his technique. He vaguely remembered him being _this_ good at making pancakes. He was getting better and better as time went by.

"We're gonna have a hard time catching this guy, so we have to take advantage of every chance we have to relax."

"Wise words, son!"

Mike shrugged, hiding a smirk as he ate a spoonful of his yogurt, and leaned against the sink. Charlie walked over to take out plates for Johnny to put their pancakes on.

"We were thinking about having a BBQ on the beach. Whatcha say, _boss_?" She asked, playfully.

He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at her back questioningly, as she walked back to set the table. He turned to Johnny.

"I didn't know we even had one."

"Yeah, it's been a while since Briggs last grilled. Two years, maybe." The FBI agent replied, not really paying him real attention, too busy perfecting a monkey looking pancake.

Mike's lips hung open, as their conversation got cut off by Zelanski rushing through the kitchen in a hurry: he eyed him confusedly. He was dressed and ready to go. If he was so late for whatever he had to do, why was he still there?

"Morning everyone - Mike, a word?"

Ah, that was why. Mike pushed himself off and braced himself to corner the DEA agent and talk in private. He looked back at Johnny, not wanting to leave their conversation pending.

"Sure - wait, Briggs grills?"

Still, he didn't get much of a reply from his friend: apparently, a simple nod would have to do as a reply.

"Woah. I sure don't wanna miss that. I'm in!"

He pumped his fist in the air at Charlie, who shook her head at his childish behavior and set their roommates mugs down on the table.

Mike turned to an impatient looking Zelanski. They walked out of the kitchen and at the end of the stairs.

"'Sup?"

"It's Paige, I need her."

He shrugged, confused. He crossed his arms, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Mhm. What for?"

Zelanski fidgeted in his place. He started gesticulating in a very nervous manner that had Mike him on high alert. Something was up.

"There's a case we've been working on… it's nothing major, but I really need her to come with me and check a few things on the paperwork."

Mike rubbed his stubbled chin, unconvinced - he hadn't shaved yet, but wasn't really planning to.

"I gave you guys a free day."

"I know, I know - that's awesome - but I really need her to do this, I can't do it alone."

"Look, Paige's had a rough and long night. Can't you just do it tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't bother her if it wasn't important, Mike, trust me."

If Zelanski's words had been weird and inconsistent with the situation - seeing as there was no real reason for them to work on a free day - the look in his eyes made him reconsider his inner instinct of doubting his reasons: they were both DEA and had their own superiors, their own real boss. Mike might have been in charge of this one OP, they might have been on his team, but that was it: he could give them a free day from his OP, but the rest of their work wasn't under his power.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Fine, fine." He scooped one last spoonful of yogurt in his mouth, before throwing the empty package on the counter. Johnny sent him a deadly stare, which he chose to ignore. "She's upstairs, sleeping. C'mon."

Mike took the lead, as Zelanski followed close behind up to the FBI agent's room.

"I know but I didn't want to… you know."

Mike looked back at him, a funny, yet annoyed look in his eyes: was it so difficult for their roommates to accept the fact that he and Paige had something going on? Apart from Charlie and Jakes, none of them had shown any kind of different reaction from that of being uneasy and skeptical about the two agents being together. Briggs seemed to be pretty much against it - it could '_shake Graceland's foundations and bring his castle down_'. Or at least that was what he - apparently - thought. Johnny hadn't said it per se, but he was quite sure the witty guy was pretty much convinced that they had just wanted to give into temptation and would be done by the end of the week. Except that that wasn't Mike's goal, at all: he wanted Paige. And Paige seemed to want him too. At least, that was what he had been pretty sure of up until the day before.

They had been sleeping together for a while now; if it had been just pure lust, they would have already moved on from it.

Lastly, Zelanski: he knew the guy had the hots for Paige. Who could blame him? She was stunning, funny, kind, beautiful. She could listen to your shit for hours and still care. But he hadn't expected him to be _this_ much into her. So into her, that he couldn't even say that she was sleeping in another man's bed - _Mike_'s bed.

Entering the room, he sat down on her side, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. He ran his thumb over her cheekbone and stared at her morning beauty: her parted plump lips breathed soft, hot air on his wrist.

"Paige. C'mon, wake up." He murmured.

Paige stirred. She blinked her eyes opened slowly, meeting his blue stare: she squeezed them and rolled her face to the side, hiding it on the pillow.

"Mmpfh, too early."

Mike laughed softly, retrieving his hand and arching it over her waist - to support himself up on the edge of the bed. Zelanski stood at the door; he leaned against its frame with his shoulder.

"It's actually well past 9."

"I don't care. Go away." Her reply got muffled by the pillowcase.

"Zelanski needs you for a case."

She turned to look back at Mike and cracked one eye open. Her groggy and sleepy voice made his heart feel warm and his hands itched to reach out and pull her in his arms.

Zelanski watched from his spot at the door; awkwardness slowly creeping up under his skin. He felt like an intruder, spying on what felt like an intimate moment of an old married couple. That wasn't the case, obviously, but he couldn't help but notice the comfort in Paige's figure as she laid there in Mike's bed - wearing what he had just noticed being the shirt the FBI agent had had on the day before.

"Did he say which one?"

Her voice dragged him away from his thoughts and his eyes went from her form to her face.

"Black tot."

Paige propped herself up on her elbows to look over Mike's shoulders, who mimicked her action and turned to look at him as well. Her face a free show of pure discomfort.

"Black tot? You sure?"

Wayne nodded, matching her worried stare: it wasn't an ordinary case; it wasn't about a street pusher. It was _Black tot_. It was _Lawrence_.

Since Paige had brought him into that mess, the two had been alternating themselves with AD Foster to take care of the man. Nobody had to know where he was, what they had done and what they were still doing. Not even Mike. He wasn't sure if he knew about it yet, so he had decided to play it safe and use the name code they had chosen to speak about it in public. Considering the man was a recovering alcoholic, _Black tot_ had seemed like a good name.

Mike scrunched his face up in confusion and looked back at the woman escaping from his bed. He followed her with his eyes, as she untangled her legs from his sheets and stood up.

"Isn't that a rum's brand?"

"Yeah… these idiots have the stupidest names ever - we _threw him in jail_not too long ago."

'_Maybe she's not told him yet, after all.'_Zelanski thought. He wondered if that was the only secret between the two or if there were more. Because in that case, he doubted they'd last long: as far as he knew, Paige was pretty hard on the truth and so was Mike. They would eventually get into another huge fight like the one they had had the day before.

The FBI agent nodded, but quickly slid his arm around the blonde beauty's waist and laid his hand on her hip, to get her attention. When she looked down at him, he bore his blue eyes into hers: Paige felt her stomach churn with guilty. Even though she had told him about Lawrence and what they had done - something that Zelanski was totally unaware of - she didn't want to share this part of the plan with him. He would have wanted to come along, but she couldn't risk him getting even more involved. If people found out about it, she, Jessica and Wayne would be screwed but the OP would still be safe. If they found out that Mike knew about it, he could risk his job and everything would blow up, the girls would stay at Carlito's mercy and the Solano's would win.

She couldn't let that happen - just like she couldn't let Mike take the fall for something she had deliberately thought through and wanted to do.

"I gave everyone a free day. Charlie wants to have a cookout. Don't take too long?"

He made it sound like he was concerned about the two agents missing out an amazing _family get together,_but the blue of his eyes sparkled with bittersweet hope. Hope that _she_ wouldn't miss it. Hope that things wouldn't stay unsolved and strained like they were right now between them, that they could talk about it. Hope that _she wouldn't run away from him. _

Paige licked her lips, brushing past him. His hand fell back into his lap, resignedly. Apart from pulling away from him, she had barely touched him. He didn't know how to interpret that. Was she afraid of him, now? Did she want to end things? Or did she want to work everything out?

She had the ability of taking his usually methodical and well-ordered mind by storm and turn it into a chaotic muddle. What she did to him and how it was possible for her to do so was beyond Mike's knowledge.

For a moment, the thought of giving up on trying to fix what had happened the day before crossed his mind. But it soon floated away, as two hushed words reached his ears and lingered in his room at the same time as she closed the door on her way out.

"We won't."

**X**

Paige squinted her eyes. The sun shone brightly in the sky as she and Zelanski approached the house. She stopped to take a red frisbee that had been thrown at her feet and curly, brown haired little girl walked shyly up to her. Murmuring a "_thank you",_ she ran back to - what Paige assumed - was her brother. The scene was heart-warming and reminded her of the easy fun times of her own childhood: when there was no work, no mess, no pain - apart from that of her grazed knees. When the world was made of bright and cheerful colors; it wasn't just black and white. When there were no complicated feelings.

When there was no Mike Warren playing ping-pong with her emotions.

The day before had been pure hell: she had went from wanting to kill him slowly and painfully to wanting to kiss him furiously back and forth throughout the day, so many times that her brain had almost exploded. Along with her heart: how was it possible to hate somebody so much and want them so intensely at the same time?

However, when she had come to her senses and finally realized she had been inconsiderate and blind to the fact that all he was trying to do was save her girls - in his own, twisted way, but he was -, she had allowed her walls to crumble down in front of him. She had come apart into his arms - one by one, she had let all her frustrations and fears reverse on him.

And he had taken them off of her and onto his shoulders, like the man he was.

Even thought she had told him horrible things and treated him like crap. Even though he could do way better than her - he had held her until the very last tear had escaped her eyes. Then, he had lulled her to sleep. In _his_ bed, in _his_ arms.

When Graceland came into view, Wayne sprinted towards the gang relaxing outside: Jakes was sitting on a rock, a beer in his hand and Briggs on his left, laughing about something but still busy with the grilling; Charlie was laying down on her side, a beer sitting by her head, as she listened to their playful talk; Johnny was trying to add more speakers to the iPod dock, in order to let the party Mexican music blast louder.

Instinctively, her eyes looked around in search for Mike, until they found him.

He was a few steps away from the rest of their roommates, wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks. His hair were damp, but his chest was dry, signaling that he may have gone for a swim a while ago. She walked towards him.

He was resting his back against a rock, one knee bent to rest his foot against it and arms crossed, as he stared at the ocean waves with a far away stare. Lost in his thoughts.

"Hey, you."

Paige approached him. He turned to cast a brief look at her, but ended up lingering a little longer. She was beautiful. '_God, is she beautiful_'. With the ocean breeze blowing through her hair, her skin glowing under the sun and shining more than usual; the green of her eyes flashing back at him in a captivating way. He was pretty sure he was done - completely, because Paige was _it_ for him.

"Hey…"

"Feel like being all alone?"

Mike shrugged, daring to look away before he'd do something he'd regret and make her run away. She was talking to him, finally.

"Just thinking - everything's fine with your case?"

"Yeah. Had to smooth some concerns away." She bit her lip, standing next to him and leaning her back on the rock. She crossed her arms, mimicking his moment of reflection.

"Whatever that was, I'm sure you did great. You always do."

"Thanks… Zelanski wouldn't survive without me."

A brief and soft laugh escaped his lips, as they stood silently side by side. It wasn't weird, nor new. They had always been able to be with each other and feel perfectly comfortable in silence. There was something about being close to each other that said more than a million words would. No awkwardness, no uneasiness. Constantly talking wasn't necessarily communicating.

Just him and her. Mike and Paige.

"I'm sorry I called you a _loser_."

Mike closed his eyes painfully. Even though she was apologizing, it still hurt to hear _that_ word coming from her.

"I'm past that."

"You shouldn't be. That was a very awful thing to say."

"If you put it like that, I was at fault too: I should've been more sensitive about it."

"Yes, you should of have."

He turned to smile at her cheeky reply. She looked up at him with a side smile: he could clearly see the sadness in her eyes. How he wished he could take it away. Make her feel better. Do anything to see that shiny spark that had got him fall so hard for her in the first place.

"It's just - I don't know. I think about Lina and the way she ended up here in the US and I can't help but wonder… what the hell are we doing, Mike? If we're not - if we're not fighting for her, then who? Who are we fighting for?"

He nodded, diverting his eyes from hers. The pain in her broken voice bomb rushing him. He tried to act cool, but he knew he would eventually fail at it.

"The world's all kinds of messed up."

Paige could read him like nobody else could. He was an open book to her. She knew him like the back of her hand. Which was crazy, if you asked him: he had know her for less than two years, but she had him all figured out. She didn't know about his first kiss, his first time, his favorite color, his food allergies; but she knew his secrets. She just knew _him_. Better than the people who knew all of those said things that officially made him Mike Warren.

"Irisha." He whispered. Paige looked at him, confused.

"What?"

"Yesterday - when I got there - it was awful. I felt sick."

Mike breathed through his nose and shut his eyes painfully.

"Before going, I had to browse and take a look - they had them stripped down, scared and naked. But when I got there… Jesus, Paige. One thing is to look at pictures of scared girls, one thing is to actually _look_ at them. In their eyes."

She casted him a worried look.

"To smell their fear and feel their terror. I felt like puking - how can you even consider yourself a human if you're capable of trading other human beings like that? I can't wrap my head around it."

Paige turned on her side and reached out to lay her hand on his bare chest. She looked up at him with a reassuring stare, her doe eyes big as ever. He was letting her in. The only person who would understand the madness he was made of. _Paige_. He was screwed. So screwed.

"That's because you're a good man."

He looked down at her hand and back into her eyes. She leant closer, sliding her hand down to pull away, but he caught it and brought it back up; his squeeze was firm and warm.

"When Jangles stabbed me - you were there when I woke up. First thing I saw - really saw - was you. You shone while every other surrounding was just a blur."

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"I don't get where this is going?"

"You had your hair in a braid, that day. But you shone so brightly, Paige. I almost thought I was dead. You were like an angel."

"Mike, what are you talking about?"

"Irisha. The girl I bought - I didn't buy her 'cause she was weaker or more scared than the others. I bought her 'cause she had a braid. And all I could see was you."

Their eyes connected in a magnetic gaze, so strong none of them found the strength to break it. Paige felt her heart flutter and clench at the same time. She knew what he was trying to say, but she wasn't going to let him form those words. The weakness of the previous night had left her body, finally. They had to be strong.

_They. _

She couldn't allow him fighting for the both of them, even if that meant playing by different rules.

"Mike…"

He shushed her with a nod of his head.

"It was selfish of me. I know I should feel bad about it, but I can't. I - I…"

She didn't let him finish and pressed her lips firmly to his. Mike's hand shot up instinctively to the back of her head, as he held her in place and tasted the sweetness of her lips; pulling away only to let her speak.

"Shut up. I'm here."

His mouth smoothed across her face with soft kisses: he started from her lips, traveled up the side of her jaw, over her cheeks and finally set on her forehead. Her arms sneaked around his waist, as she closed her eyes to enjoy their moment.

"I know it hurts - knowing they're still in there. That it might take weeks before their nightmare ends. It's hard for all of us, but you're gonna have to try and trust me, okay?" Mike whispered to her, threading his fingers in her locks.

"I do trust you. I just don't agree with you."

"I know. But it's your being so stubborn that keeps me going."

When their eyes met again, the world around them stopped existing. It was absurd. They weren't like this - so sentimental and overly emotional. But the events of the past days and those that had yet to come made them crave for more.

Paige ran her thumb across his lower lip, as if wanting to draw his mouth and engrave it into her memory, before she engulfed it into a hungry and desperate kiss. She took her time to devour his lips - nibbling, savoring, bruising them. Mike felt the air being sucked out of him: she had never kissed him like that, not in public at least. It was one of the most honest and truthful moments they had shared up until now. Neither of them moved. They simply existed together, in each other's arms. The tension had melted away and that was what mattered the most. They were fine, after all. _Together_.

"I thought you wanted to keep it simple - no PDA."

Mike breathed heavily on her lips, feeling dizzy; his forehead pressed tightly against hers as they both tried to recover from their kiss. She slowly pulled away, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

"I'm supposed to start riding the crimson tide soon - enjoy it while you can, before PMS kicks in."

"Do I really want to know all of that?" He cringed.

Paige scoffed and laid her hands flat on his chest. She looked up at him, dead in the eye.

"Well, as in my _boyfriend_ you should know when to touch me and when not to piss me off, don't you think?"

A dumb smile took over Mike's whole face; his white teeth shining brightly at her confused face.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "It just jumps… kinda weird to hear you actually call me like _that_. But it sounds so good. Really good."

Her cheeks turned into two cherry blossoms as he went for her lips once more. His right arm circled her shoulders and he hugged her to his side. She laid her cheek on his shoulder; her arms circling his waist to press herself on his bare torso.

"Come here, _love bear_ - let me hold ya."

Mike's playful words lingered in the air, as their bubble popped up again. Nothing mattered, just the two of them. His eyes got lost in the horizon again and Paige focused on the steady rhythm of his heart thumping in his chest. His hand came up to lazily run his knuckles on her back.

_This_ - this felt right.

Being in his arms, switching her mind off and having him taking care of her - something she had never permitted before - felt right.

However, their blissful moment of peace was broken by Johnny, who apparently couldn't help but be faithful to the unwritten rule of '_all good things must come to an end_'.

"A'ight, smoochies. Time to put those tongues in for a good use!" He technically yelled at the two, motioning for them to go over there. They heard Charlie scolding him as they pulled away; Mike's hands still grasping her hips.

The older FBI agent swung her beer at Johnny, spilling it all over his shorts.

"Lay off, Johnny, Christ! Leave' em alone!"

Paige laughed, rubbing Mike's hands. "It's okay, Charlie - we're coming." He lowered his mouth over hers, as she pecked his lips one last time, and released her. They joined their friends, but decided to sit opposite to each other: Paige wanted to enjoy some fun time with her roommates without being interrogated on her personal life; Mike just wanted to please her. And if that meant sitting far from her, but actually having a great view of her full person, well… he'd be more than happy to do as she wished.

"Mhm Briggs, that smells awesome. Hope tastes just the same."

Johnny, passing by to lower the music, punched him in the shoulder. "Hey! No blasphemy here!"

"Ouch! Blasphemy? Really? Is it that good?"

He asked, rubbing the sore spot. Paige chuckled at the scene, but fixed her eyes into Mike's. Once again, they spoke silently to each others with no physical words exchanged, as Briggs started handing out plates of fuming and mouth watering pork chops. Jakes said something - he probably replied to Mike's question, but he didn't really listen, too busy focusing on the girl that that kept stealing his attention and pieces of his heart everyday.

'_You're in for a taste of heaven, Mikey.'_

**X**

"Okay, I take everything back: Briggs, those must have been the best grilled pork chops I've ever had." Mike leant back on his elbows, patting his stomach and holding back a burp. "Seriously, it's a big 10 from me."

Times like this - it was this that made Graceland so special. Apart from those damn green eyes that drove him so crazy to the point of making him lose control.

When she spoke, her velvet voice made him regret sitting there between Charlie and Jakes. He was feeling sleepy now and, apparently, so was she: all he wanted to do was cuddling up to her and basking in the feeling of her flesh against his own.

"Got mine too, Paul - you've exceeded yourself t'night. The juiciest you've ever made them, I think."

"Glad you liked them, P-funk." Paul raised his beer towards her, before taking a sip.

"That reminds me…" Johnny leaned over Paige and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "…got any juicy detail to share? Your boy Mikey here kept his pretty lips sealed." When Mike rolled his eyes and took a sip out of his own beer, the DEA agent giggled. Not accepting a silent _no_ as an answer, Johnny kept going. "C'mon P, d'you swallow?"

"Johnny!" She whipped her head around, looking at him in fake disbelief. She was actually trying to hold back a fit of giggles, not wanting to hurt Mike's feelings: he had this shocked expression on his face - eyes popping out and mouth wide open. It was priceless.

"Shit, man. You serious?!" Mike complained, menacingly looking at the FBI agent on her left.

"I might have just choked down some vomit." Jakes followed his lead and sent a dirty look Johnny's way.

"I don't wanna hear any of this shit, bro!" Raising his hands, Zelanski joined the two.

"Wha-? It's Paige, guys! I could've pushed ever further than asking if she'd given you head!"

Not being able to hold it any longer, Paige threw her head back on Johnny's arm and convulsed in laughter. Charlie stifled a laugh as well and hid it with a sip of her beer; Briggs did the exact same thing, even though he followed the scene with his eyes, not wanting to miss a beat.

"On his defense, that's true and I-"

"Are you seriously going to answer that?!" As she started speaking - after having gained control of herself again -, Mike turned to her. Horrified.

"Why, does it bother you?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Uhh, yeah!"

"_No secrets in Graceland_."

Her lips wrapped around her beer. She looked seductively at him, as she saw him squirming in his place; she was deliberately messing with him, treating him just like she had when he had been a rookie. Because deep down, he was still a rookie to her and always would be.

Johnny nudged her side and winked at her, nodding in Mike's direction: he was now blocking everybody's voice out and pressing his hands over his ears.

"I can't believe this is really happening."

They all laughed and she shared a handshake with Johnny, finishing off her beer.

"Relax, Mike. I ain't gonna say anything about it, you prude."

When he glared at her, she stuck her lower lip out, pouting. Charlie shook her head, quickly taking his side: it was so unfair; that poor kid had just fallen head over heels for Paige, Johnny shouldn't have taken advantage of that. Yes, he was a little too cheesy and corny, but making fun of him for that was plain cruel. Actually no, it wasn't. It was _hilarious_.

"You just can't let it go, can you?"

"Oh c'mon, Chuck! He's the only one who's ever made it to Paige's bed! Well, except for Donnie and Diego-"

Johnny exclaimed. He was soon cut off by Paige sucker punching him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, while she grinned triumphantly down at him; she stole his beer, taking a sip.

Mike, who had just finished his, sent them a confused glance. "Who's Dieg- wait a minute, did you just say Donnie?" His voice went from having a curious tone to one of disbelief. He eyed Paige, expectedly. "You and Donnie… -"

"Yeah son!" Johnny's voice rang out. He grabbed her wrist, as she went to hit him again, and dodged her punch aimed lower. Way _lower_. "Oh shut up! No-"

"I thought he and Lauren had a thing going on?"

"Who's Lauren?" Zelanski interjected.

"This is getting too messy!" Paige threw her hands up in the air, exasperatedly.

The other agents laughed at the scene, except Mike - who was a little too interested in her past sexual encounters for her liking - and Jakes, who looked fast asleep. She barely glanced at Wayne, answering his question. "Lauren was DEA, she used to have your room." Her eyes flicked back to Mike's. "I did not screw Donny, okay?! We just slept together. _Slept_."

"Naked!"

She threw her head back. "I'ma have to kill you soon, Johnny!"

The FBI agent laughed both at the sound of her exasperated voice and at Mike's raised eyebrows. Messing with him was so much fun: he was so anxious that he would go crazy if something were out of ordinary. This was the Mike he had missed, not the cocky asshole that had arrived there from DC.

He pushed Paige away, snatching his beer back, before turning to the ex rookie. He pulled his hood up and everybody groaned: it was a sign - he was about to go into his full storyteller mode.

However, Mike casually leant his arms on his bent legs and got himself another beer, scooting over to listen.

Paige hid a smile: there was something about Mike's caring side that made her stomach feel warm and… weird. _'Damn, you, Mike Warren. What the hell are you doing to me?'  
><em>

"Picture this: we've just shut down Silva - thrown him in jail with a full life sentence. Crazy shit goes down, like really; every agency is involved: FBI, DEA, ICE, DCP, FBP. Name them, they're all involved - Venice Beach is on fire; we have a kick ass party. We all lose sight of each other but Paige, here, is having the time of her life, drinking like crazy…"

"Hey, we all were!"

"Shhhh! You're ruinin' the atmosphere!"

She waved him off and pulled his hood down: she wasn't going to let him make fun of her that way; if Mike had to know, she might as well tell the story herself.

"Okay, I was completely wasted, came back at 5AM - I think…" Her eyes looked up at the darkening sky, reminisicing: they'd been out there the whole day. It had been so long since they had all hung out together and relaxed, just being silly and careless. It felt so good. They really felt like a family, even though things weren't exactly perfect. But all families had problems, didn't they?

"Whatever - I go straight to bed and decide to sleep naked. Next thing I know, I'm fighting my way out of Donny's room with Laurel's throwing stuff at us." She laughed at the memory. Johnny nodded furiously at her side.

"Lauren went to call Donny down for lunch and found them cuddled up in their sleep."

"He thought _I_ was Lauren!" Paige defended herself, holding her hands up to hide her face. "Gosh, that pissed her off even more! She was so mad she didn't talk to me for a month!"

Mike's head lulled forward and a heartedly-felt laugh rumbled out of his chest. They all laughed along, but Paige could only focus on the sound of his voice - of his _laugh_. He sounded happy,- innocent, just like when he had first come to Graceland.

A bitter feeling creeped up in her stomach: she knew, as good as he did, that his heart wasn't pure, not anymore. He had seen stuff that had changed him, no matter how hard he tried to act like it hadn't. But somehow he had managed to get through it with no major damages; he was still the good guy he was before, just with a darker soul.

That surprisingly perfect moment was interrupted by the ringing of a phone.

_His_ phone.

Glancing down at it, a frown appeared on Mike's face. Nobody noticed but her. They were all too busy bringing up other old embarrassing memories and fighting over them to realize Mike's mood had severely changed. She took a swing out of her beer, before addressing him.

"Something's wrong? DC?"

He slowly got up, still frowning, and walked off to answer his phone.

"It's from the director's office."

Paige eyed him in the distance throughout all the conversation. He didn't freak out, he didn't bursted out in anger, nor screamed. He simply talked. And that's what scared her the most: Mike was the kind of guy who would keep everything inside and build up such a huge pressure that it'd eventually blow up all at once. It had happened before, it could happen again.

When he came back, she could clearly see the stress and the held back tension radiating from every cell of his body.

She looked at him worriedly.

"Bad news?"

He clenched his jaw. Suddenly everybody's eyes were on him and silence took over their small bonfire. Even Jakes, who had kept silence all along, cracked one eye open.

"He knows about the explosion, Sulla - everything. Somebody told him."

"Who?" Charlie inquired.

"I don't know, but he knows." Squeezing his phone tightly in his hands, he closed his eyes to control his building up anger. "He wants to call the operation. By the end of the week."

"What?! But - we can't, that's impossible!"

"Yeah and we have to wait for Sulla's okay to get the girls out!"

As everybody started raising their voice to prove their point - to criticize the Bureau's bad behavior towards Mike and their operation, the FBI agent surprisingly let all of his frustrations out, screaming at them. Before Paige could get up and stop him from doing so, his voice echoed in the silence of the evening.

"I know, I know! Fuck, I know!"

**X**

The door to Mike's room was cracked open when they all got back. After he had stormed off, there wasn't much left to do; the mood had changed, nobody felt like having fun anymore after the bad news that he had received and that would inevitably affect them too as his team.

Paige scrolled her shoes to get the sand off before going back in; she met Charlie's eyes and the girls shared a sad smile: she knew the blonde agent was dying to go upstairs and check on Mikey. They were like fire and rain: they could get at each other's throats like mad dogs in a dogfight, but still be careful not to dig their claws in too deep; no matter how bad their fight had been - but apparently they had quickly sorted it out - they still looked out for each other. Charlie's smile turned into a frown, as she watched her friend disappear on the stairs, and her attention fell on Paul.

How she wished they could have that too.

…

"Hey."

It took a moment for Paige to slip into his room. She had lingered outside his door for a few minutes before setting a foot in: he was laying on his bed, ankles and arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling; he looked completely lost in his thoughts - thoughts she knew being extremely unhealthy for his confidence and for the sake of his mind.

He felt her presence there, but didn't dare to look up, nor to move. Last time she had approached him in such a state, he had ended up yelling at her - said things he didn't mean. He couldn't risk that happening again. Silence was the better option.

The bed shifted slightly as she laid on her side and stared up at him.

"You okay?" Paige whispered. Rolling her eyes at how out of line that had sounded, she tucked her right hand under her cheek. "Right, stupid question."

The line of his chiseled jaw was firmer than usual; she could see the veins on his neck pumping with force and his face muscles tense with fury. Her hand palmed his forearm: this case was destroying him, emotionally - physically, she knew he could take it; he was young and strong, ready to push himself to the edge. But on an emotional level, she feared he could lose his sanity over this.

Mike wanted Solano. He wanted to put an end to this case more than anything else in his world - maybe even more than them being together - but if bad things like that kept happening, he could really lose his mind and do something he'd regret.

Pushing back her thoughts, she smoothed her hand up and down his arm in a slow, soothing manner; her eyes peering at his hard features.

"You want to talk about it?"

Mike shook his head. She breathed through her nose; her hand drifted to his toned stomach to let her fingers brush intimately on his warm skin. She felt him shivering underneath her touch.

"You want me to take your mind off of it?"

Mike shook his head, again.

"You want me to go?"

This time, Paige didn't get any kind of reaction: Mike stayed still - it didn't seem like he intended to move, nor to say a word. Her monologue left her no choice but to leave the room and let him blow off the steam all by himself.

Skimming her lips over his tensed cheek, she dropped a delicate kiss on his unshaven skin, before making her exit.

"Alright. Sleep it off, you'll feel better in the morning."

Mike laid there with a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach after she had disappeared behind the door. That kiss had felt full of affection and complicity - he couldn't help but feel like the aim of that gesture had just been to show him her support, regardless of their mutual physical attraction.

But he had ignored her helping hand once again. Was he ever going to get how to learn from his past?

…

It didn't take long for Paige to fall asleep, that night. Despite her worry for Mike's condition, her eyes had quickly closed and sleep had kicked in: after all, she had barely got any rest the night before and the beers they had consumed at the cookout had been of great help.

However, her ears perked up at the fair '_clack_' sound that invaded her room at past midnight. She opened her eyes to peak at the clock and, before she could even make a move to turn around and tell the intruder off with any profanity coming up in her mind, she felt the bed sinking under a way too familiar weight. There was no need for her eyes to take into his form, she could recognize him simply by his presence in the room.

"Mike…"

The FBI agent dropped a kiss on her collarbone, hiding his face in the crook of her neck and slipping his arms around her waist. He pulled her closer to him, pressing his front to her back.

She fitted perfectly in his embrace: if there was one thing that could make him feel better, that was _her_.

Paige sighed comfortably, her hand reaching back to rest on his neck. She curled her fingers and started lightly scratching the back of his neck. The soothing rhythm of that action made his head plunge forward - he had never liked when girls did that after sex. But when Paige did it, he'd doze off in the blink of an eye and whatever was bothering him would soon be forgotten.

However, he doubted that would work now, even though her intimate caresses were really easing him into relaxation.

"I was giving you space."

Mike pushed his face further into her neck, dropping a kiss there; his arms tightened their grip around her.

He knew he wouldn't sleep that night, but he had Paige in his arms and that was more than enough. Space wasn't something he needed from her: sure, he hadn't asked her to stay before, but not out of annoyance. He simply didn't want her to be a victim of his anger when she had nothing to do with it._'So… I ruined you, uh? Our… thing. Was it a mistake too? Was__I__a mistake too, Mike?'_ He didn't want to hurt her again with ambiguous words that could be misinterpreted, like he had done days before. She didn't deserve that.

With Paige there, close to him - her scent bewitching him in a peaceful land of breathless delight - the pressure of every issue bothering him decreased. No - got _erased_ from his life. At least, for as long as she'd be in his arms.

_"I don't want it."_


	18. What's the story, morning glory?

**Hello! I've just finished writing this. It's 2.15AM in my country now and I started writing after I had just finished studying, so ignore every non-sense sentence and grammar mistake.**

**I had originally written something different, but as I re-read it… I figured I had to make it different. This gives an insight on what Paige's past was like (in MY story, of course!). **

**Anyway, I really wanted to update today because I have to celebrate some AMAZING thing my friend back in London did for me: she went to see 'Assassins' with her college mates and – as if that wasn't enough to earn my envy! – she got to actually meet Aaron *.* But really, what I want to celebrate is the fact that she got me his autograph! :D**

**Okay, whatever, I'm fangirling way too much over this lol**

**I hope this doesn't suck too much :/ Enjoy!**

**- xo, Mel**

**P.S. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR YOUR FEEDBACK!**

**X**

Paige blinked her eyes a few times, before she adjusted to the light bursting through her window. She damned herself for forgetting the blinds open the night before. However, her morning grumpiness softened when she felt two lips press soft kisses to the back of her head. She smiled unconsciously, running her hand up one strong forearm, settled firmly on the side of her body.

"Morning."

Morning cuddles weren't her thing; cuddling was not her thing. At all. But the way Mike's groggy voice was hushed into her ears - his warm breath leaving goose bumps on her skin - left her melting into his arms and she couldn't do nothing but surrendering to his affectionate attention.

Turning around into his embrace, she fell straight onto his chest and her eyes met his: judging by the puffiness of his skin and the faint, dark circles around his cerulean orbs, he was obviously tired; if her guess was right - and it was - he hadn't slept one wink that night. He had probably spent the entire time replaying over and over again his phone call with the director.

"You haven't slept at all, have you?" Paige asked, brushing her thumb under his left eye. Mike shrugged and rested his head back on the pillow.

"Just a couple of hours."

She felt the anger rising up in her body. For some strange reason, every time Mike seemed to be at peace, something had to happen and mess everything up. He was a good man, he didn't deserve all the shit he was being put through.

First the temporary suspension from the case, now this. Whoever was responsible for it, if she were to catch them… they'd be severely punished. Even permanently, if she had it her way. They were not only causing him serious issues - both personal and professional ones - but they were also preventing this OP from reaching the successful point where her girls would be finally freed.

She didn't care if they weren't going to bring down the Solano cartel - she really wish they could accomplish that, for Mike's sanity - but it wasn't one of her main priorities. What was important to her was getting those girls out of that hell hole - safely and healthy.

This rat who was trying to bring Mike down wasn't making this possible and that pissed her off. So much.

Paige moved her hand up to the top of his head and ran her fingers through his hair. She drew lazy and soft patterns onto his scalp in a soothing manner and his eyes fluttered half closed.

"You should've stayed in your bed. Maybe-"

He silenced her with a grunt; his leg shifted between hers: somewhere during the night they had ended up tangling their legs together and, when she had rolled around before, she had ended up brushing her left knee over his morning wood. Not a good thing to do to a man who had barely slept and had no energy whatsoever into his body.

"Don't even go there. I wouldn't have slept at all - if I got any sleep, it's because of you."

Mike meant that. He didn't know how or why, but the warmth coming from her body, her scent, the soft movements of her chest rising up and down with each deep breath she took while sleeping could ease him into his sleep in a heart beat.

The night before, it hadn't been long before he had been able to close his eyes and follow her into the land of dreams. But it also hadn't been long before the problems he had left into the real world had followed him there too and he had found himself fully awake, in the middle of the night, listening to the rhythmic sound of her breath puffing out through her lips.

He could see the worry in her eyes, as she kept delighting him with her touch.

"What's going on in that head of yours, uh?"

Mike breathed through his nose, setting his jaw: she knew perfectly what was on his mind; or at least, she was well aware of the topic of his thoughts. He had to find a way to keep this OP going. Not for the director - at this point, he couldn't care less about him, had it not been for the budget he was providing him. But because he owed it to his team, to Jess - who had been the first one supporting him with it, and most of all to her, Paige - whose support had been the real deal for him: had it not been for her, he wouldn't have even been there anymore.

"I think I'm gonna go with surveillance until Sulla gets back to me - or at least until I figure out a way to put eyes in there. What do you think?"

"Do you really want to know?" Paige bit her lip, eyeing him skeptically.

"Yes. I value your opinion."

The look in his eyes left her no choice but to give in. It's not like she didn't want to be there for him and listen to him, but she knew that that conversation could have easily turned into a fight, due to their different point of views.

She had put hers aside after their mutual and 'heartfelt' apologies in the kitchen, the other night, but she hadn't renounced to them: she was still convinced that what Mike had chosen to do could have been avoided and her girls be freed instead.

"In that case - I think it's a good idea. Of course, shutting it down would be much better, but you won't, so…"

"Paige."

"I'm just saying!" She pushed herself off of him and sat up - she needed to get away from his touch, before she really lost it and said things she didn't mean. "You know we have different opinions about this. You asked for mine and I gave it to you."

Crossing her legs indian style, Paige ran her fingers through her hair and brushed her locks back; Mike followed her lead and brought himself up.

He scooted closer to her and laid his forehead on the back of her head, closing his eyes: he breathed into her scent and let his usually self controlled mind get inebriated by her presence. His feelings for Paige were slowly intoxicating him - turning his brains into mush. He never lost control, unless she was around. Last summer, he had been able to hold himself back - except for that one kiss he had stolen from her in his room. But now that he had finally had a taste, it felt like he just couldn't get enough of her.  
>"I want you to be in charge of everything." Mike blurted out before he could even catch himself. Her body tensed and she slowly detached herself from him.<p>

She turned around, astonished, and looked at him. Her make-up less skin glowed under the sunlight shining on her face; her voice barely more than a whisper.

"What?"

"I need somebody to run the tacticals. Somebody I can trust."

"Are you sure?"

Mike sighed and caught her hand in his; he brushed his thumb on its back and his eyes bored into hers in an intense gaze. They had been through a lot together. She had helped him with Briggs and stood up for him when everybody had turned against him; she had got him back on the case when he had messed up. If they're bond had been strong before, now it was made of steel.

He nodded, squeezing her hand and leaning in. Paige's eyes fluttered close when his mouth brushed imperceptibly against hers.

"100%. There's nobody else I'd trust more with it."

Mike's shoulders fell back on the mattress, as a huge sense of fatigue overcame him. He closed his eyes, but couldn't stop his lips from forming a genuine smile when the silk of her flesh pressed up on his chest. Paige laid her head next to his and her eyes examined his features.

It was fascinating how you could talk to someone and feel your whole body trembling with excitement by just being close to them. It could warm your heart up and the faintest touch could give you the dead certainty of being alive. To Paige, that was the scariest part of it all: Mike, he was the best part - no matter his annoying imperfections and stupid assumptions, no matter how bad their fights were and the number of things they couldn't seem to agree on - but when it came down to being sincere and wholehearted, to dig into the depths of their thing, she couldn't help but feel way too comfortable. And that wasn't good. It meant that she was baring herself to him - to a guy who could break her and make her feel whole all at the same time.

Mike was changing her: he was turning her into somebody she never thought she'd be; she wanted to feel the fire of his skin onto her lips and his hands constantly reassuring her that it was okay for her to feel like this. That it was okay to be this content when there was so much evil in the world. Evil she was supposed to fight at any cost.

"Mike?"

"Mhm?" He murmured, sleepily. Paige's thumb brushed his growing hair back.

"You have a scar on your forehead."

"I do."

"I've never noticed it before. How'd you get it?"

When she pulled her hand back, Mike quickly turned his head to drop a brief kiss on her wrist. She smiled, as his eyes remained closed and his voice came out in a deep, low husk.

"I fell from the tree in my backyard when I was 5. Two stitches - I wanted to see how high I could go without falling and obviously, I found out."

"Always the adventurous one, uh?" She settled her head in the crook of his neck, one arm draped over his torso. "There's so much I don't know about you."

"Bull - you know everything about me." This time, his eyes were open and looking straight down at her soft face. It was early - not Mike's kind of early, but early enough for Paige to wake up and go for a run. However, she'd gladly skip her training routine if it meant spend a little more time in such a good place like Mike's arms. As the thought swayed into her mind, she blushed lightly.

'_Stop it, P._', she mentally scolded herself.

"There's so much I don't know about you either."

Mike's words were as unexpected as his next move: he rolled them over and brought them to their usual spooning position - the one they had gotten used to when sleeping together. He cradled her into his arms, brushing his nose on the back of her neck.

"Trust me, you're not missing much." She sighed.

"Somehow I find that hard to believe." It only took him a few moments of comfortable silence to finally gain the courage to ask her a question he had meant to ask since that name had first been brought up the night before. "Who's Diego?"

And just like the night before, Paige tensed up. That's exactly why he had wanted to ask her that.

Paige wasn't like that. She was the sun, when everything around her was grey and stormy. She could light up the room with her radiant smile. But she would never, ever let her emotions get a hold of her and be visible to people surrounding her. As cocky as that sounded, the only few times she had showed her feelings had been behind closed doors - with him.

They all knew Paige's anger and stubbornness, but they didn't know her weakness. Something Mike was happy to help her with. To _be the only one_ who could actually help her with that.

"Why'd you wanna know?"

"Just asking. You don't have to tell me."

The last thing he wanted was to make her run away, but he really wanted to know - he needed to know. Because everything about her was something he felt the need to know. Because that made her what she was: the strongest woman in his life.

"Let's say he's the closest thing I've come to a relationship - he was my training officer."

Paige shifted slightly in his arms, sliding her right arm under her pillow. Mike tightened his grip around her, trying not to let his surprise show as his next words escaped his lips.

"You dated your training officer?"

"Sort of. I was so green, I didn't exactly know what to expect. And he was this huge rockstar in my eyes, it was hard not to go for it and hook up with him - it was before I even came to Graceland, though. We'd always meet up at my place."

"So you started off as a one night stand?"

"Just like we did. But," Her fingers slipped easily between his; she brought their entwined hands up and onto her chest, to have him leaning slightly over her body "it took a different turn."

The sudden movement made Mike rest his cheek on hers and she breathed contentedly in the intimacy of their new embrance.

"How so?"

If there was one person she could talk to about this, that was Mike. She had let this go and buried it into her past - never to be brought up again. Nobody in the house knew about it, except herself. And soon, Mike.

For a moment, Paige debated whether to let the bomb drop or not, but eventually chose the first option: if she wanted this _thing_ between them to work permanently - and boy, she did - she had to be honest with him. She had to show him her true self. After all, he had made it pretty clear he was willing to accept her with both her good and bad points.

"Pregnancy scare."

The easiness with which those two words - that had been forbidden from her life ever since - had rolled off her tongue surprised her.

"Wow." Mike breathed out. "Did you… um…"

"No - Jesus, no!" She kicked her foot back; her heel colliding with his shin.

"Sorry! I just… what happened?"

His sorrowful tone made her ease back into his arms and she embraced herself to keep going with her confession: she had one more bomb to drop.

"I booked an appointment. He said he'd be there with me but I ended up waiting for a ghost - he never came. When I got out, I went to his house to tell him it had just been a false alarm."

"And?"

Mike's hand tightened its grip around hers: the simplicity of that gesture made her stomach flutter. No butterflies this time, just the plain awareness of him being there - not wanting to run away from her.

"Married, with a kid on the way."

"You serious?" He asked, in disbelief.

"Yeah - 6 months of lies, basically. He knew lots of things about me, but thankfully I haven't trusted him enough to let him in. Something I swore I'd never do with anybody. Ever."

Mike nodded, understandingly. His eyes wondered around the room as millions of thoughts rushed through his head: now everything made sense. All her insecurities, her constant habit of questioning herself and her feelings - the hardness of her shell she had fossilized around her heart through the years.

He had a hard time believing somebody would intentionally hurt her like that - _betray_ her like that. Paige was wonderful. She was an angel. A badass, annoyingly obnoxious and stubborn angel, but still an angel. Whoever thought they could play her like that - a woman with such a big and beautiful heart - should be locked into a mental hospital for the rest of their days.

Sensing his hesitation, Paige turned back into his arms and stared up at him; his eyes quickly found her big, doe ones and the hard thoughts of seconds before soon vanished from his mind.

'_If you only knew what you do to me, Paige…'_

"And then you came." She touched his cheek; the tip of her fingers flooded with the stinging feeling of his faint stubble brushing against the skin. "You snuck into my life so quietly and had me all figured out - it's actually quite incredible."

"You're incredible." Mike protested and wrapped his own fingers around her tiny wrist. He turned her hand around, his eyes fixed on hers. She smiled as his lips brushed intimately on her knuckles. As if he felt the obligation of apologizing for what she had been through.

It was a silly thought indeed, but that was just Mike: always saying sorry, always trying to fix things he hadn't broken himself but that had _fallen_ broken into his hands. "I know we've talked about this before, but I want you to know that I'll always be here, no matter what - if it came to happen to us…"

When their palms rested one against the other, their fingers naturally found their way between the others. They were in their bubble again - away from their problems, away from the real word.

This was _their_ world.

"Shh, I know." Paige silenced him with a timid brush of her lips. "You're different."

"And you know what's even better?" He grinned cockily, before he took his turn to softly peck her lips and whispered to her playful words to lighten up the mood. "I'm not married."

She took the hint and pushed him onto his back, rolling on top of him. She straddled him, leaning over; her hair fell to one side and he brushed it back, staring at her face._'God, she's so beautiful.'_

"You're not ripped either."

"Is that so? 'Cause I can go to Jess's and- Ouch!" Her fingernails cutting through the skin of his ribcage made him regret ever pronouncing the blonde AD's name. He looked sheepishly at her, circling the middle of her back with one arm. "You still jealous?"

Paige scoffed, scratching her nails down to the side of his body, as if marking her own territory.

"I'm not. I'm the one who gets to fuck all of this whenever I want - I just despise the bitch."

Mike hissed, both at her choice of words and at the pleasurable pain her bold gesture was providing him - he was no masochist, but everything Paige did to him would make his eyes roll to the back of his head.

He pressed his lips firmly on hers, cupping the back of her head. She could feel his fingers threading through her hair, pulling possessively at the blonde strands that tickled his skin. She rocked her body into his, her lips parting to give him full access to her mouth.

The pink of her tongue flashed briefly in the morning light, as it swiftly slipped between his dry, full lips.

The sweet passion of their kiss could rip the sky apart and dazzle the entire world: its bewildering taste sent shivers deeply through her skin and right to her bones.

In those moments, she let herself go and come clean under his caresses - she forgot everything. Until he slowly pulled away and brushed his thumb on the side of her neck.

"D'you still see him?"

Paige laid her hand on his chest, closing her eyes; his chin resting on her crown, one arm curled up behind his head.

"From time to time, yeah. He's usually Johnny's second in command in our joint OPs."

"Really? What's his name?"

"Diego Torres." She bit his lip, as his face popped up into her mind. He hadn't thought about him in years now, too afraid she'd have all those suppressed emotions come rushing back. However, she felt nothing.

Nothing but the tightness in her belly provoked by Mike's hand slipping underneath her shirt to skim his palm up and down her back. Skin to skin.

"Mhm… sounds familiar."

"That's because he's in our team too."

"Oh - you want me to kick him off?" He inquired, moving his head to the side to cast a look at the girl on his chest. He brushed her hair off her face to meet her eyes - his other hand still massaging her back.

"No. He's really good at his job, we need him."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I don't really 's in the past, with somebody I'm not anymore."

Paige reached up to peck his lips. Mike nodded, pushing his face forward to steal another brief kiss.

"I wish we'd met before." He confessed, in an affectionate whisper. She shook her head and a hint of hurt flashed in eyes. A smile spread onto her lips.

"I don't. Because I wouldn't change a thing that's happened between us. We're here, that's all that matters."

They were like Venus and Mars. Two different planets, two different atomic weights. But somehow, whenever they were together, they were like one whole thing. Two missing pieces of the same puzzle. They had always felt that connection, from the very first moment they had spoken to each other. It had been concealed behind their constant flirting and friendly reminders of not getting involved with anybody in Graceland - but it had been there. And now that they had finally conquered it, it was blasting to the nth degree

Mike mimicked her smile and stilled his hand between her shoulder blades, right where her bra clasp would have been. Had she been wearing one. He brushed the pad of his index on the tiny mole he had discovered place there, during one of his mouth exploration of her back nights before.

Leaning in, he lingered onto her smiling lips, before he let himself get lost into her again.

"It is."

As their mouths touched again and sparks flew by, he ran his fingers on the side of her head, brushing all of her hair to one side and falling back on the mattress. He pulled away with lust filled eyes as he watched Paige shift onto him and straddle his lap to dive onto his lips once more; his hands coming to her rescue as one steadied her hot body and the other brought the blanket up to cover them.

**X**

"An iced caramel macchiato - extra caramel and light on the ice. Just the way you like it."

Mike's lean body suddenly slumped next to her, one big, striped cup from '_Santino's'_in his hands. He sat on the table across from her, as he watched with an amused look the way her eyes lit up at the creamy substance he was handing her. Paige's hand instantly reached for the ice cold paper cup - her lips curled into an amazed smile.

"How…?" She lifted the lid slightly to let her nose smell the sugary coffee aroma; her eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy, as she fell back into her chair. "Mhm, you're a god."

Mike chuckled at her childish behavior. He crossed his arms, his eyes scanning their surroundings: it had been days since he had got everything set and ready to keep Sylmar under control and of course, Paige had kept her word and gave everything she had to keep the OP going. Being in charge of the tactical teams had always been Johnny's job, but since he was now involved with Carlito, it hadn't seem a great idea to Mike to let him run the cover teams - however Paige was doing great. She controlled everything from the base station - they had set it a mile away from Sulla's -, while Zelanski took care of his prep teams and occasionally went for tactical inspections in the Solano's territory.

He had caught himself staring at her working her ass off multiple times when they had happened to be on duty at the same time and the more he observed her devoting herself to the OP, the more he thought that this woman - _his_ woman, he dared to say - really was incredible.

There was no other way to put in words what Paige Arkin really was. She literally could do _anything_.

Finally, his eyes fell back on her figure, as she silently sipped her coffee and reclined her head back in relaxation. He lowered his head to the side, trying to get her attention.

"Figured you'd need some energy - you've been on surveillance for the past four days and nights. It's not healthy, Paige."

Moaning, she wiped her upper lip and chuckled, sarcastically. Mike shook his head: he had stepped into a very cold land and now she was all ready to bite.

"Ah, I knew there was a trick."

"No trick - I could switch turns with Jakes or Zelanski, you don't have to do this."

"I do, it's my job."

"Yeah, but-"

"Mike." Her eyes stared coldly into his and he could do nothing but sigh in response: she literally drove him insane; he loved this side of her - the overly stubborn and efficient side of her that also made him want to rip his own hair out. He wasn't one to talk, being a workaholic himself, but she was pushing herself to the limit - to the very edge and he was afraid she would fall from it.

However, there was no game to play: when Paige had her mind set on something, that was it. There was no way anybody would be able to make her change her mind.

"Fine, fine. You win!" Mike held his hands up and pushed himself off the table. "Anything on the radar?"

Standing behind the back of her chair, he leant over to peek at the screen of her laptop. She shook her head. "Nothing. They've only been in and out - buying food and stuff."

"No client or whatever?"

"Nope - what about Sulla?" Paige asked, as she set her cup down and moved to open a new file.

It was Mike's turn to shook his head; his eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed as his eyes scanned the new but irrelevant informations flashing on the screen.

"Silencioso como una tumba"

She bit back a laugh, turning into her seat to look up at him: an amused smile playing on her lips.

"If you're trying to impress me with your bad Spanish… it's working."

"I'll keep that in mind." Mike looked back down at her with a brief smile, but that soon turned back into a frown. He wiped the stress out of his eyes, straightening his back. Paige watched him carefully. "Damn, I need something to bring back to Jess - she got a few extra days, but if I don't get results, the director might just call everything off on the spot."

"I think we should move forward."

Paige's sudden suggestion startled him and his eyes darted back to hers in a heartbeat.

"What do you mean?"

"Come with me." Her fingers squeezed his bicep as she passed by him and he found his feet following her as if he were a lost puppy - her hand still on his skin, since she was now grasping his wrist to drag him along.

They eagerly crossed the room, inquiring eyes following them; it kind of made him feel uneasy but the way Paige walked, with her head held high, to the map hung on the wall made him breathe a sigh of relief: she was starting to stop minding being seen in public _that_ close to him and it was more than a good sign. It was a _great_ sign.

She pushed the button to light up the map and her fingers started tracing different patterns that Mike himself had trouble following - she was so into it. "You see - we can keep an eye on them from our station here, but it doesn't give us a real view of what's happening there. If we move three surveillance teams here…" She pointed to the first red spot. "…here…" Second red spot. "…and here…" Finally, her index tapped loudly on the third spot. "…we can keep track of everything going in and out, without worrying about missing a thing; so if Carlito or more girls arrive, we get the TAC team to roll in and we get it so far up their asses they won't even notice."

Mike diverted her eyes from the map for a brief second, sending her a delighted look.

"You're having fun with this, aren't you?"

"Yep and I don't feel any guilt for it. These scums deserve everything that's coming their way - what do you think? Is it worth a shot?" She crossed her arms and stood next to him: a moment of silence followed, as both agents eyed the map plan, lost in their own thoughts.

Mike was the first to break their moment of reflection.

"Mhm… I can only give you one team."

"Mike…"

"I can't, Paige. The bureau's cutting my budget, I have to make it last for everything. If I could, I would, believe me." He rubbed the side his neck in annoyance: Paige's plan was so unbelievably good that could actually put an end to this OP, had they been lucky enough to have Carlito himself delivering the new girls. But it was also quite risky and, as much as he wanted to give her the teams she really needed, there was no way he'd convince Jessica or the director to agree to that plan.

Paige nodded, thoughtfully, and Mike felt a flash of pride rush through his body: he could clearly see her mind working on a new way to make this plan work. If there was one thing Paige Arkin was not capable of being, that was yielding: she wouldn't give up on anything, at least not without doing everything in her power first.  
>"Okay, okay. I get it - you'll have to give me Zelanski for the night, though."<p>

"Woah." He looked back at her - the serious mood that had set between them shifting away. "Shall I start getting jealous?"

When he wiggled his eyebrows at her, she let out a genuine laugh and pushed him by the shoulder, resulting in Mike releasing a laugh himself too.

However, the mood shifted again when he moved closer to her and brushed the back of his hand against hers, as both their arms dangled at their sides. He was trying his best to be subtle - with all those agents rushing around them - but it was really hard for him to keep his hands to himself when all he wanted to do was throwing himself at her. Literally.

"We haven't been alone for so long now - you're always here. It feels like forever."

Paige looked at him with the corner of her eyes - a mischievous twinkle sparkling in their green, right back at him.

"Coming from the guy who gets a boner whenever this case's mentioned?"

Mike's mouth hung agape for a few minutes in fake shock; her radiant smile made him forget for a moment that he couldn't reach out and pull her into his arms - he almost did that, but luckily he caught himself midway and bumped his hip against hers instead.

"Shut up!"

To anybody looking, that was just a stupid but _friendly_ gesture between roommates, but had they seen the look of complicity in their eyes, they would have had no doubt: the thin boundary of being _just_ roommates had been crossed and neither one of them was intentioned to go back in.

…

That same night - or the following morning, considering it was past 3AM - Mike felt a cold body slipping between the sheets of his bed. He moaned into his sleep, as two hands firmly pulled at his shoulders to turn him around. He gave in without complain, rolling over to catch a shivering Paige into the warmth of his arms.

"Hey… you're back." He whispered, still half asleep - his voice cracking and eyes closed. Paige turned around into his arms, wiggling around as she eagerly tugged at his hands.

"Just hold me."

He cracked one eye open and lifted his head, slightly.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, I just want you to hold me." She gave a nice, hard tug at his right hand, so he would finally engulf her into his embrace.

"Are you sure it's nothing?"

"100%"

Mike's eyed fluttered back closed and he lazily squeezed her form. Paige closed her eyes, sleep quickly overcoming her due to the comfortable position they were in. But obviously, even though her companion was still pretty much stunned from sleep, he didn't seem like he was ready to let it go. Eyes still closed, he tried once again to get something out of her.

"I'm still not convinced."

Finally, with a furious plum blush spreading over her cheeks and down her neck, Paige gave in and curled herself up into a human ball; her backside fitting right into his groin to try and distract him from the confession she was about to make. Mike moaned into his sleep, pulling her even closer.

"I just missed you. Even though I'm really starting to wonder why, since you're not shutting your damn mouth and letting me sleep."

For a moment, she thought he hadn't even heard her and went back to sleep, due to the minutes of silence that followed her statement. However, when she was right about to follow his lead and let herself slip into a deep and much deserved slumber, she felt four words being croaked out into her ear: she wasn't sure if he had been asleep and that just an unconscious reply of his, but what she was sure of was that her heart had fluttered and skipped a beat.

"I missed you too."


	19. A rumble out on the promenade

**Hello!**

**I've got a few things to say: I'm slowly losing my muse. Not that it was great before, but it's definitely getting worse now. I had a whole thing planned out, but as I wrote everything down, I realized this story would turn out veeeeery long. I've been cutting out a lot of stuff to shorten it (this one had many more scenes, but obviously it was too long and I would have had to divide it in two chapters, which would have messed up the entire storyline), for many reasons:**

**1. I don't want it to get too boring; 2. I think I'll start posting every weekend from now on, due to my busy schedule right now; 3. As I said, I'm losing my muse.**

**Just to make it clear, I'm not losing interest in Graceland. I'm actually so excited for the third season! I can't wait for March to arrive :)**

**Thanks for the reviews and all the feedback! **

**I hope you enjoy this. This is sort of a crucial point, 'cause from now on a lot of things will happen! Let me know what you think :) **

**- xo, Mel**

**X**

It was late in the morning and Mike's hands were skimming furiously over the keyboard of his laptop to be as quick as possible and get all the paperwork done before noon: Jess had explicitly told him he had to respect that deadline if he wanted to go through with the OP.

He held back a smile, as he thought about the great news he had gotten that morning. He couldn't wait to see Paige's reaction.

She had woken up fairly early that day - which was pretty strange, considering she had never been a morning person - and headed straight to the gym. He had planned to join her later and watch her work on toning her beautiful body, but his job had gotten in the way.

He had had a few reports to complete, but then _that_ phone call had completely messed up his plans for the day and he had found himself filling up forms, while John and Zelanski took over his load of paperwork.

Mike rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand just in time for the main door to burst open. Paige's sweaty and slim figure soon appeared and he looked at her with the corner of his eye, glancing up and down at her form: she was wearing a black sport bra that shaped her upper half perfectly, while her favorite pair of gray leggings hugged her legs even more nicely than he remembered; her blonde hair pulled back in a small bun.

"Morning!" Paige chipped in, slumping her bag down by the door.

Mike smiled at her warmly before darting his eyes back to the screen of his computer.

"How was gym?" He asked nonchalantly.

Johnny held his hand up and she slapped her palm against his, clearly amused by the way his curved shoulders reflected his annoyance: that particular task - filing reports and any other kind of paperwork - was not his thing. But he always bragged about how he was never in the action of it all, so now that he was, he had to deal with the boring side that came with it too.

"Exhausting. It feels like forever since I last went." She admitted, before she skipped down the steps and disappeared in the kitchen.

"What are you guys doing?"

"They're writing reports fo-" Mike started.

"Surveillance reports! Boring as hell." Zelanski cut him off.

Mike's eyes subtly followed her. From his spot on the couch he had a very nice view of her and, when she got on her tiptoes to grab her mug on the middle shelf, he shifted and scooted himself down, clearing his throat. He hated being so close yet unable to touch her.

"Yeah - what am I supposed to write when Carlito's nowhere to be found?!"

"Exactly that, John." He moved his eyes back to the open page on his laptop. Johnny moaned in disapproval, as Paige laughed and poured herself a cup of tea.

"Your boy's torturing us, P. Isn't this torture?!"

"Do your job." Mike deadpanned. This time, he forced himself not to look at her, even though her laugh warmed his heart. How he loved that sound.

"Actually, it is torture for adrenaline addicts like us, Mike."

And how he loved this new side of her: they had always flirted in public - especially when they had been _just friends - _but had kind of slowed down when they had taken things to the next level. They always tried to hide in a corner and get some privacy, or at least that's what he tried to do_ for her_. Had it been for him, she'd be in his arms all the time. Constantly. 24/7.

"Guess I'm lucky to have a different kind of addiction, then."

Mike retorted with a clever smile. He wasn't sure she had heard him, seeing as she had disappeared again behind the separating wall to walk back in the living room.

But obviously, Johnny had. He made a gagging noise, to which Zelanski responded with a loud sneer.

"Gross. And corny. Yo, P! You into gross and corny now?!"

"Still better than compulsive wankers!"

Paige came back into view, mug in hand and hair let loose to frame her face. Mike focused on the sweaty bangs sticking to her forehead, rather than the way her golden skin seemed to look even firmer and softer than before.

"I'm gonna hit the shower. Later."

Shaking himself out of his amazed state, he rolled his lower lip in and blowed.

"Woah woah, wait!"

His whistle startled her. She turned around looking at him quizzically. _Had he just whistled at her_? An amused smile took over her face: he seemed to be in a pretty good mood. Nice. Maybe she could have some fun with him later.

"I've got big news for you."

"What sort of news?"

Paige took a few steps closer, still at the foot of the stairs. She was tired and she smelled. If it wasn't that important, she was going to be more than happy to postpone it - whatever that was - in favor of a nice, hot shower. But Mike's cocky grin made her reconsider her options and soon enough she was rushing through the living room towards him.

"Sulla called: we have a deal."

"Are you serious?!"

"Uh - uh. I'm working on the paperwork to get everything ready right now."

"No way - why didn't you tell me when I walked in?!"

Not even bothering to circle the two agents on the floor, Paige jumped over the back of the sofa and landed with a bounce next to Mike, whose smile grow even bigger at her impatience. She looked so excited.

"Hey! I've just cleaned that yesterday!" Johnny complained.

"Sh!"

She hooked her arm around Mike's and leaned in to peek at his laptop screen, her mouth agape and the beating of her heart increasing with happiness. It was real; it was happening: they were finally going to free her girls.

However, Mike's attention was soon stolen by something else: Bates's eyes had inevitably landed on the exposed skin of her cleavage from afar. He felt a huge sense of jealousy creeping up.

There was nothing to be afraid of - it was obviously clear that the poor guy was nothing but a goofy friend to her - but the way his eyes always tended to focus on certain parts of her body made him want to knock him out. It was okay to look - Paige was incredibly beautiful - but Bates ogled her too much for his liking.

"Jess is getting in touch with the director to get more time - at this point, he can't not give it to us. And she promised she'd get him to consider keeping the OP going even after Carlito's sex trafficking ring is shut down, so we can get to Carlos Solano too and finally bring the entire cartel down."

Mike reached behind her back and wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly skimming his hand over the curvy length of her bare side. His eyes sent a subtle but challenging glare to the DEA agent on the floor, still oblivious to his jealous state.

"Holy shit, I can't believe it."

"I still have yet to find a way to get eyes in there but other than that… you did it. You got' em, Paige. And you got your girls back - come Wednesday, they'll be free."

It all happened so fast: one moment he was daring Wayne to keep on leering at her and then somehow he found himself completely lost into Paige - her lips warm and soft against his.

Taking back control of his body, he squeezed her hip and titled his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

Saying he was surprised by such a spontaneous and sudden display of affection was an understatement: Paige had completely caught him off guard - not that he was complaining, of course. He hadn't kissed her in almost… he didn't remember how long it had been, but it sure felt like a lifetime. And this would have sent a good message to the guy drooling after her.

Johnny's voice felt like a distant and barely audible noise. "Aaaand that's my cue to leave!"

Paige pulled back slowly; her lips departing from his in a lingering brush.

"No, it's fine."

Mike's eyes fluttered open, as she gave him one last peck.

"It is?" He asked, too charmed now to let her go.

"Yep - I need to shower anyway. There's nothing sexy in getting drenched in someone else's sweat, Mike."

The wink she left him with made his insides feel funny and warm: he was so hooked on her. He knew for a fact he would never get tired of her - as for now, there hadn't been one night he hadn't spent spooning her, sleeping surrounded by her scent.

It was either him sneaking into her bed, or Paige climbing in with him in the middle of the night, after a long day of surveillance. Maybe Johnny was right. Maybe he was really way too corny. But if Paige hated that side of him, she had never showed it.

"I beg to differ." He murmured to himself.

"Bleah. Man, you want these done or not? 'cause I might just go throw up somewhere."

Mike chuckled. Any excuse would do for John to get rid of those papers. He shook his head and went back to his computer; Paige momentarily forgotten.

However, it was only a matter of minutes before he finally shut his laptop and stood up to stretch his legs.

He threw a quick glance at the two other agents still busy with their tasks and felt pretty relieved in _how busy_ they still were, since his mind naturally drifted to the image of the beautiful blonde upstairs.

"I'm gonna check on Paige." He announced to the room, already halfway up the stairs.

Johnny smiled smugly and pumped his fist in the air.

"Mikey, bro! You goin' at it like rabbits, seriously!"

"Can you blame him?" Zelanski addressed him with what felt like a rhetorical question, judging by the way his left eyebrow shot up in a skeptical look: nobody in their right might wouldn't want to jump at the first chance of getting in bed with someone like Paige.

His FBI friend acted indignant for a moment, before he gave up and shrugged his shoulders in agreement. The DEA agent went back to his paper, biting the back of his pen.

"That's what I thought."

…

Paige was in the shower. In _his_ shower.

They had been involved for a while now, but it still surprised Mike how easily everything had fallen into place. It felt like they had been in that routine forever: waking up together - going to work - coming back home - sleeping in each other's arms. It was kind of intimate to hear the sound of his shower running, knowing that nobody but Paige could be in there. It made him feel all giddy inside. Although, right now his manly needs were pretty much taking over, due to the image in his mind of her hands soaping her body in _his_ bathroom. The brief thought that flashed in his head and that forced a goofy smile on his face didn't help at all: it was funny, but this - their _relationship_ - had started with a simple, midnight shower. Before he had a chance to think things through, he found himself stripping down and joining her under the spray of water.

Paige smiled to herself when she felt his comforting arms wrap around her middle section and his chin rest on her shoulder.

"Hey…"

"Thought you'd like some company." He murmured into her ear, dropping a kiss to the side of her jaw, as water cascaded over them. His tongue ran a lazy path down her neck, where he quickly found her pulse.

"What's with you today?"

Her words faded into a soft whimper when one of Mike's hands slowly ghosted past her lower stomach and he pressed himself close to her back.

"Mhm. It's been a while."

This time, his voice came out deep and full of lust - a sound that caused a rush of fire to shoot up through her body and ended up clouding her mind. With her being in charge of the tacticals and Mike constantly busy at Headquarters, they had barely had the time of sharing a few stolen kisses throughout the entire week.

Paige turned around in his arms. When their eyes met, every bit of air was sucked out the room: they crashed their lips together in a hungry kiss - its force pushing them off balance for a brief second, before Mike secured her body in his arms.

She wrapped her legs around him with a squeal, as he picked her up and let the rustling sound of the water cover their malicious whispers.

**X**

Mike slammed his car door with force - his body was mainly full of anger, but he couldn't brush off that panic feeling in the pit of his stomach that had settled there since Jakes had called him.

_'__She's fine', _he had tried to convince himself during the illegally fast ride to the base station, but it had been useless: from the very first moment he had heard the words _Paige_ and _accident_ in the same sentence, his heart had started beating uncontrollably. Even though Dale had explained the dynamic of the situation in a very calm and controlled way. Yet, he still feared she had hurt herself more than his roommate wanted him to believe.

He spot Jakes at the door, waiting for him. Unfazed. He had probably expected the blind rage Mike was in, since he calmly walked up to him before he made a scene in front of everybody.

"Where is she?" Mike growled at him as he passed by. Dale rolled his eyes, following close behind to explain once more what had in fact happened.

"She lost control, she was down on him before I could stop her."

"I knew I shouldn't have paired you with her - I should've known better."

As the FBI agent brushed him off and threw a disgusted look his way, DJ felt the blood boiling into his veins. He grabbed his arm and abruptly stopped him - their eyes meeting, hastily.

"Mike - calm down."

Mike held his stare, before glancing down at his hand; he looked back up, daring him to let go: right now, he could have easily started a fight with Dale - he was so pissed off. He was about to spat back at him, when his eyes caught sight of Zelanski approaching with a few of the other guys from the TAC team. Fire flashed through his eyes and he shook Jakes's hand off of him.

"And where the hell were you!?"

"She-"

"I don't care!" He yelled. Wayne shut his mouth, regretfully. "You're here to move in when needed, not to - oh, whatever. I'll deal with y'all later."

Pushing his way through all of them, he quickly rushed inside: the place was small - thank God - and it didn't take long for him to spot her shaken up figure among the others.

Paige was leaning against the wall in a corner, sipping from a water bottle; as soon as she met Mike's angry stare, she let her shoulders fall and rolled her eyes.

"Great…" She murmured.

Mike stomped towards her. He opened his arms wide and reached her with 4 big steps.

"What the hell, Paige? What happened?"

"Mike…"

"Do you know how irresponsible that was? You endangered yourself, you endangered Jakes, the OP…" He started scolding her like a little child, listing down all the risks she had taken.

She didn't even have the strength to listen to his lecture right now. She just wanted him to go, she couldn't deal with him when he was being his annoyingly self righteous self.

"I know, I kno-" Paige tried again.

"… and that girl. Do you have any idea of what could've happene-"

Her own hidden anger exploded from her body at the mention of _that girl _and she cut him off with a yell of her own. He couldn't call her like that.

_'__That girl'. _

She was a person - she had a name_. _Deep down she knew he hadn't meant to sound rude, but she just couldn't help herself: it was a way too sensitive subject to her.

Of course he wouldn't get why she did what she did. To be completely frank, she hadn't even expected him to: to Mike, those girls were just damsels in distress he had to save to be the _good_ _guy_ - to Paige, they were more than just that. They weren't a mission - they were human beings. They had to be saved because of that - because they were _human beings._

"I fucking know that, Mike!"

...

_'__Federal officers.'_

_'How can I help you, officers?'_

_'__I need to ask you about your relationship with this young girl.'_

_'__She's my daughter, I'm about to take her home.'_

_'__Officer Jakes, please take this young girl back to our car - I need to ask you a few questions.'_

_'__I didn't do anything wrong.'_

_'You're assaulting a federal officer.'_

_'__She was smiling, she wanted to come with me.'_

_'__Piece of shit!'_

_..._

And her fist had collided with that scum's face. Multiple times.

Paige had begged Dale not to call Mike and at first, when he had told her he wouldn't, she had believed him - or at least, she had tried to. Because she knew deep down that he wasn't going to keep his word - he cared too much about her not to let Mike know. She was now mad at him, but she was also thankful: if there was one person who could help her get rid of the adrenaline and the frustration in her body, that was Mike. He always knew what to do to calm her down - even though she was about to smack his head into the wall.

However, after she had finally been able to shut him up, Paige pushed herself off the wall and walked to the window, staring out with a faraway look; her bottle squeezed tight between her hands.

Mike pursued his lips, mentally slapping himself for going crazy on her at such a full speed. He just couldn't help it: he would always be affected by anything that involved Paige; it just hit him straight to the core.

He stood behind her back and hesitantly touched her bare arm to get her attention; he made sure to lower his voice to a whisper and, when she turned around, he pulled her chin up.

"You okay?"

Paige nodded briefly.

"I'm sorry, I know that was stupid."

"It was. It's the stupidest thing you could ever do."

Even though he was still pretty pissed at the fact she had so recklessly put herself in danger - what if Sulla's men had followed them? What if they had shot both her and Jakes on the spot? What if she hadn't been able to knock that man down? -, the way she hid her face from him made his heart ache with both sadness and worry.

This case meant so much to her, he almost couldn't recognize her: Paige had always been so passionate about her job, but he had never seen her this emotional over a case.

Mike brushed his thumb over her lower lip and, when she looked up, he smiled softly at her.

That smile soon turned into a frown when he caught a glimpse of her watery eyes.

"I just - you were right. Her eyes… Oh God."

"It's okay. Breathe." He quickly took a hold of her hand and squeezed her fingers reassuringly, not sure of how close she wanted him to be in a room full of FBI agents and DEA colleagues.

"I lost it… She was terrified - so scared."

Before anyone could see the fragile state she was in, Mike pulled her on his chest and wrapped his arms around her; he squeezed her tight and tangled his fingers through her hair, not caring if they were attracting indiscreet stares.

"I know, I know." He whispered, pressing his lips softly to her forehead.

"We need to get Lina out of there - we have to save these girls, Mike." Paige muffled murmur barely reached his ears, as she fisted his shirt and trembled in his arms.

"We will. They're gonna pay for everything. Promise." He pulled back slightly, peeking at her face. She had been able to hold back the tears and, much to his relief, they were now completely gone from her doe eyes; she was now back to being _his_ _Paige_.

Mike released her and held her chin between his fingers. "Now, gimme a smile?"

…

Zelanski watched the interaction between Mike and Paige from afar, as relieved as the FBI agent was to see Paige going back to normal: when she had gone full kickass mode on the man who had bought one of her girls, something had shaken her up inside and when they had arrived, he had found somebody completely different from the shiny and bright Paige he was used to.

They had tried to comfort her, but it had all be in vain: he knew that Mike would have been the only one able to calm her down.

"Hey, you're at Graceland, aren't you? With Arkin?"

Wayne turned around, meeting the gaze of one of his colleagues - he couldn't quite remember his name, but he was sure they had worked together before. He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yeah, why?"

The guy ignored his question and nodded towards his two roommates.

"Who's that guy she's talking to? He looks familiar."

"Oh - that's Warren, he's in charge of this whole thing. Came here all the way from rainy DC to whip our asses on this case."

"Why would he do that?"

The look of confusion on the man's face made Wayne wonder why he was so interested in Mike: he knew about his friend's theory about the leak being of them, so he had to be really careful. He wasn't going to be responsible for any bad thing happening to the OP. So, he wasn't going to give any detail nor information to Mr Stranger.

"I don't know - maybe he missed the thrill of being undercover? Ask him. Or Paige, she might know. I wasn't there last year."

"Now I remember him." Stranger said. "He's the one who got gutted during the Bello bust."

"Yeah, that's him."

"They seem pretty close." He inquired, eyeing the two quite interested.

Zelanski eyed him instead; he wasn't sure he knew what the expression on his face meant. Why was he so interested?

"They are."

Before he could go and ask him that question, two other agents - who had apparently been eavesdropping all along - leaned over Wayne's shoulder and interfered, jumping in the conversation.

"Wait a minute. Warren?" The blonde guy he knew was named Ryan asked, a disbelieving look on his face. "He's banging Arkin?"

"No way! He is, he is." The black, curly haired one - Carlos - nodded. An impressed and quite annoying grin on his face.

Wayne pushed them back with his elbow, annoyed by their stupid comments. His eyes wandered protectively back to Paige: Mike was now brushing his thumb on her chin and - even though he knew he had no chance at all - for a moment he wished that had been him. He would never come between the two, but _Paige_ was _Paige _and he couldn't help the affection he felt for her.

"Take it easy, guys. She's my roommate."

"Well, that's a lucky bastard." Ryan commented.

'_You have no idea._' Zelanski mentally agreed, before he almost rammed the barrel of his shotgun straight into Carlos when his next words rang into his ears.

"Oh God, those tits are unbelievable! So not fair."

…

Paige was about to give in and show him a hint of a smile when she caught a blonde head in the doorway. Close behind Jessica was Clarke: now, she knew she was in deep shit.

"Maybe later…" She murmured, prying her face away from his hand.

Mike looked at her questioningly, before he glanced behind his back and breathed through his nose. _'Perfect. Just perfect.'_

"Let me deal with it."

"Mike-"

"No." He gave her hand a quick squeeze and tried his best to give her the most reassuring smile he could come up with in that moment: he knew this was going to be hard; Clarke was going to go crazy over this and Jessica… well, seeing as this had been all Paige, she was probably going to coerce him into forcing Mike to give her up.

But that wasn't going to happen: Paige was part of his team and it was going to stay that way. He wouldn't let her go just because of a stupid mistake; she was still an incredible agent.

"I don't care what you say. I'm gonna take care of you and that's it - whether you like it or not, we're in a relationship. And when in a relationship, people take care of each other."

"I appreciate the concern, but this is my mess - I've got to deal with it." Paige tried once more, but the tender caress of Mike's thumb on the back of her hand put an end to their discussion.

"No, what you've got to do is getting these nasty cuts cleaned up. I need my _headlight_ fixed and ready to go, okay?" He smiled warmly at her and winked. "I'll take the hit."

She watched him stroll confidently towards their superiors, ready to fight.

A feeling of deep pride and excitement forced the smile Mike had been asking for to spread on her face: there was no doubt in her heart that even if she asked him not to, he was always going to fight for her.

Because that was just Mike and she wouldn't have it any other way.

…

"You're losing your focus, Mike."

Jessica watched Clarke go, hopelessly: Mike had always been good with words. Thanks to his charming personality and brilliant abilities, he could always find a way to get out of a shitty situation, even when irreparable things like this happened. At first, that had been one of the many reasons why she had allowed the young agent in her bed: she had always liked men with such good brains and great charisma that they could work their way to the top quite easily - and his good looks didn't hurt either.

But lately it had become one of the things she hated the most about him: he had just used that to sweet talk Clarke in not reporting that blondie's bad behavior to her boss. _Unbelievable_.

"I'm not."

She snorted, gripping the handle of her bag in one hand and the case file in the other; her cold eyes piercing his. He just couldn't think straight when that bimbo was around, could he?

"Yes, you are. You're not keeping your eyes on the target and I'm gonna be the one getting their ass kicked because of it. - You're getting involved with sex trade, when you were set out to go after Solano's corridor."

Mike shook his head. He crossed his arms and rubbed his left forearm nervously; his eyes slowly darting to the other side of the room, even though he kept addressing her.

Jessica closed her eyes in annoyance: what the hell was wrong with him? This wasn't the Mike Warren she knew. She was his superior and he wasn't even paying attention to her!

"No, what I was set out to do was doing my job and that's exactly what I'm doing. Sulla is involved with Carlito. He's head of the Solano cartel here in LA. If we get him-"

"- we'll get to his father too. I understand that, Mike. But I'm not sure it's worth all of this." She tried to make him reason. She stepped right in front of him, so close that he was forced to look back down at her. He flashed her a small smile, nodding.

"It is. Look, I've got everything under control. Trust me, okay?"

When Mike lowered his mouth to drop a soft kiss to her cheek, her mind drifted back to their time in DC: last time he had done that, they had ended up having a quickie in her office, with the door left _unlocked - _apparently_, _it had been the thrill of being caught together that had kept him interested, because he hadn't once touched her since she had joined him in LA.

"I do."

Jessica followed with her eyes as his lean body got away from her; a helpless look on her face: Mike crossed the room without looking back, directed towards the DEA girl who was bickering with Tuturro and stubbornly pushing his hands away as he tried to put on her medication.

"Maybe that's the problem." She whispered to herself.

Mike Warren could make her do many things - she had come to accept the effects he had on her by now - but he would _never_, _ever_ make her wish to be that girl.

_Never_.


	20. A spoonful of sugar

**Hello! I'll be quick, promise!  
>Just wanted to let you know, this is long but it was even longer before I cut off some stuff!<br>Secondly, this was supposed to be the 21st chapter, but I switched them because I wanted some sweet stuff first before... you'll see :)  
>Thirdly, I'll get a beta and edit the previous chapters, so all my grammar horrors will be forever forgotten (yeah, sure -.-). <strong>

**Btw, enjoy! **

**Thanks for all the GL love :D I love reading your reviews&messages!  
>- xo, Mel<strong>

**X**

Mornings had never been quiet at Graceland, there was always something going on - people yelling, doors slamming, sounds of frizzling pans and clucking mugs coming from the kitchen…

That's why when he had woken up that morning, Mike had been quite surprised to find the kitchen empty and Charlie and Briggs nowhere to be found: apparently the chore wheel had become an option, since it was their turn to cook breakfast that day.

However, he would gladly take them off breakfast duty forever, if that meant watching Paige make the only food she could actually cook. _French toasts_.

Tapping his pen on the counter, Mike pushed aside the umpteenth paper he was supposed to check and absentmindedly went for another one.

"Mike, Stop!"

A smile broke onto his face at the way Paige scolded him without taking her eyes off the pan, too busy with her task.

"What? I'm not doing anything!"

"You're staring at me." For a moment, she skeptically glanced at him, and went back to flip the golden pieces of bread.

"I'm not." He defended himself - an offended expression on his face. He lowered his head and went back to his readings: he had sent all the forms via mail the day before, but had later decided to print an extra copy just in case the director asked for it. Knowing Jessica, she had thought about that herself, but he didn't want to take any risks. They were supposed to meet at Headquarters in a hour - he needed to speed up if he wanted to get everything ready by then.

Nonetheless, his attention flew somewhere else once again when his eyes took notice of how that black, big t-shirt Paige was wearing didn't fit her at all, to the point of completely hiding the low riding and high cut shorts she had underneath. Her legs proudly stood out in their bare, golden glory. "That looks familiar, though."

Paige hid a smile to herself, spraying oil into the pan.

"Told you I'd steal your clothes. Deal with it."

"That's _my_ t-shirt."

Mike's eyes followed her slow movements, as she turned around to look at him: she rested her hip against the counter and crossed her ankles, itching her - _his_ - t-shirt up.

"Mhm - want it back?" Her mischievous smile increased when she caught him ranking his blue orbs from her bare feet up to her eyes - the look of appreciation on his face dared her to take it further. Playing with Mike's head was so much fun.

Setting the pen down, the FBI agent took his time to get up - he was bound to go out soon and didn't need to wrinkle his shirt or his slacks even more than he was about to.

Taking her off guard, he sprinted towards the blonde agent with two steps and dug his fingers into her sides. Her squeal echoed through the kitchen when he lifted her up on the sink and dig his face in the curve of her neck.

"Ha - no! Mike!" When he roared into the hollow of her shoulder, Paige couldn't stop herself from giggling: it was this side of him she liked the most - his fun, careless version that made her forget every problem in her life and every issue in her job. But it was also what she feared the most. She was starting to feel way too safe in his arms and less safe when he wasn't around. Something that _couldn't_ happen, considering her job required being on your own most of the times.

The softness of the kisses he was now trailing up the side of her neck brought her back to reality. She leant into his touch, sneaking her arms over his shoulders, as he pushed her knees apart and settled between her legs. His hands slipped easily under the much bigger t-shirt - gentle fingers ghosting their way up her stomach. Her breath hitched. She rested bumped her forehead against his temple and breathed into his ear.

"That tickles…"

Mike pulled his face from her neck. Their eyes met for a brief second, before his murmur was swallowed by his lips covering hers.

"Sorry."

"Toasts are burning…" Paige reminded him in a shaky whisper, when he shortly pulled away to catch his breath.

It was clear neither one of them was paying any attention to their long forgotten breakfast. Their mouths found each other again in less than a second and, when Mike's hands slid further up under her t-shirt to smooth the pad of his thumbs over the underside of her breasts, she almost started mentally debating whether the couch or her bed upstairs would be the better option to rush to.

That, if Johnny and Dale's voices hadn't made them sprung apart instantly.

"Oh, c'mon!"

"Don't you two ever stop?"

Paige squeezed Mike's shoulder as his warm hands lingered on her thighs: he squeezed one of her knees in return, before helping her down and rubbing the back of his neck.

She bumped into Johnny on her way back to the stove, where she tried to save whatever was salvageable of her homemade breakfast. The dark haired agent grinned goofily at Mike, who rolled his eyes in annoyance. They were never going to get some privacy outside of their rooms - that was simply the ugly truth they had to learn to accept sooner or later. Well, that _he_ needed to accept.

Dale, however, didn't look as amused with the situation as John was, seeing as he circled the counter and went straight to the fridge with no further than an annoyed glance sent their way.

"Any sign of Carlito?" Mike asked, trying to break the awkward tension. Paige set the half burnt toasts on a plate and started to clean up.

"Morning to you too, rat."

She scolded Dale with a pissed stare and was about to give him a piece of her mind, had it not been for Johnny jumping into her sight line.

"Nope - mhm." He stole a piece of bread from her plate and turned to Mike, who was leaning against the spot where he had previously lifted her. "I'm just about to stop by one more time."

"Good, keep me posted."

The blonde DEA agent watched subtly as the two fell in their own conversation. She left them discussing Solano's OP from the Carlito angle and made her way to Dale - a cup of coffee in her hand. She leant on the counter next to him and took a sip - her eyes remained set on Mike's furrowed expression: his playful side was long gone now and he was deeply concentrated on whatever Johnny was talking about.

"You really need to stop calling him that."

Jakes snorted at her side.

"And miss all the fun? Nah."

Paige went to reply, when she saw Johnny pat Mike's shoulder and skip towards the door. She pushed herself up, worried by his following words, and waited for her lover's reaction.

"If he's not there, we can kiss it goodbye - no pun intended, guys. Catch ya later!"

"He's there - he has to be. Or we're screwed."

The look on Mike's face wasn't one of the best, it certainly didn't entail anything good. And neither did the way he smacked his hand down on the counter. She wanted to rush to his side and use all the power she had to soften him - push him to take back control of his self. Because this wasn't him. Mike Warren the FBI agent had always been able to keep it cool and save his cover, whether it had been Eddie shooting himself, Johnny pretending to die or him unwillingly torturing a man with Bello. He had survived worse, but now that he was in charge of the OP, it looked like he was having an even harder time than being undercover. If he kept going at this rate, he was going to lose his mind.  
>"What's with we? <em>You<em>'re screwed. We're just little soldiers fighting your battle."

Paige glared at DJ, scolding him.

"Dale."

"If I go down, you're all going down with me. There's no I in team." A flash of anger flashed through Mike's eyes.

He approached Jakes, straightening his back and challengingly holding his stare. Paige set her mug down and circled the counter to stand between the two, ready to intervene if they were to start a fight right there.

As a matter of fact, the smirk on Dale's face forced her to press a hand on Mike's chest when he took an angry step forward.

"Whatever. I'ma head out too."

Those two - they had to get their shit together. Mike could be an ass when he wanted and Dale was an ass 90% of the time, but they were both good men - they both worked for the good side of the law, how was it possible they couldn't put their differences aside and be decent with one other?

It seemed like Briggs was the only one who could get DJ to use his head, just like she was the only one who could get Mike to _stop_ using his at the speed of light.

"It'll be fine. We're gonna catch these guys, remember?"

Paige wrapped her arms around his torso from the back and rested her chin on the curve of his neck, staring at the side of his face - the knuckles of her right hand ran smoothly on his shirt clad chest in a soothing manner.

When he nodded, hunching over to caress the back of her hand with his lips, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder and released him - it was barely 10 in the morning and she had already had her fair share of _girlfriend_ duties. It still felt weird to call herself _that_.

"You know, we should go out - get away from everything for a while." Mike blurted out before he could catch the words from escaping his mouth.

He squeezed his eyes, mentally slapping himself: couldn't have he found another way to ask her out? A _better_ way?

Making Paige agree on going out on a date was almost impossible per se - sounding like an idiot certainly wasn't going to help him in his mission.

"Sounds good. I bet we're missed at _the_ _Drop_."

He shook his head, as she shrugged and went back to sipping her coffee. Her feet padded towards the stairs, but a strong hand wrapped around her dangling wrist and pulled her back in the kitchen before she could even set a foot out.

"Actually, I meant just the two of us…"

Paige's eyes blankly stared at his but it was only the way she soon diverted them to look down that signaled him what her answer was going to be.

"As in another date? Mike." She sighed, setting her mug down once again.

Mike's thumb traced the pulse on her wrist before he slid his hand in hers and laced their fingers. Paige relaxed at the feeling of his warmth enveloping the coldness of her skin.

"You owe me one." He almost whispered.

"I don't owe you anything. Slow dancing, late night, the Flamingos - ring a bell?"

"That was hardly a date! That was me trying to feel you up." Mike snorted and grinned cockily at her - his playful side, jumping right back at her, forced a smile on her face. She blinked her eyes in amusement. "C'mon? Just you and me."

"Fine, but then we're even." Paige shook her head, finally giving in. She got on her tiptoes and sealed their deal with a tender kiss - it was meant to be short but as always, it lasted longer than she had intended. The way his tongue intruded easily between her lips in search for hers sent chills down her spine and she had to cup the back of his neck to keep herself from swaying off balance. One of his hands came up to rest on the middle of her back.

When they finally broke apart, Mike's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Great. I've got to go now but I'm counting on you tonight - don't stand me up!"

He pecked her lips once more, before collecting his papers in a steady heap and going for the door.

"Wait, where are we going?"

His hand froze on the knob when Paige's voice rang out. Turning around, he took in her full morning beauty, as she stood halfway up the stairs, mug still in hand.

"Don't worry about that, I have something in mind. Just dress nicely. Maybe something hot and tight enough so I can get my hands-"

His words were cut off and hung in the air before he could even end his joke: he slammed the door open, watching Paige stomping down the stairs and towards him. Her right hand curled into a tight fist that hit his shoulder right away, before she shoved him out on the street, laughing.

Mike's head popped right back in, stealing one more kiss from her. She smoothed a hand down in his chest, softly pushing him out again.

"Get out of here!"

Her scolding came out weak due to the smile playing on her lips and the flutter in her stomach caused by the wink he sent her in return.

_Damn Mike Warren._

* * *

><p>"No. Freaking. Way. Mike! This is awesome! How did you-?"<p>

Dating is a pretty easy thing to do. When you're a teenager. But as far as Mike Warren was concerned, it gets more difficult with age - especially when you're supposed to take out on a date someone as much of a spitfire as Paige Arkin was.

Getting her to go on a date was a mission per se, but he could succeed at it with a little pout and a huge effort. Choosing something she would like and wouldn't get bored with - something out of the cliché zone he was used to -, _that_ was technically impossible: unlike the rest of the common world, Paige was the perfect combination of crazy, occasionally sweet and sexy freak. She wasn't a tomboy, considering her striking beauty - she was simply one of the guys. All of that made taking her out one of the most complicated mission he had ever been involved in.

Turning the engine off, Mike turned to her and stretched his right arm out on the back of their seat: he had had a very hard time convincing Jakes to lend him his red pick-up, after that morning. But Paige - she was worth everything. The incredulous look in her eyes and the spontaneous smile spreading wide on her lips made that and the risky afternoon investigation of her room _so_ worth it.

"You've mentioned having drive-in movie nights as a child and I just thought it'd be nice to go back, y'know? Plus, a movie night is what I had originally planned before you decided to sneak Jess into our '_secret_' date."

For a moment, he thought he'd messed up: who in the hell would name his ex…. - mistress? Lover? How was he even supposed to call her? - when out on a date with the girl they've dreamed of for so long? Their _girlfriend_? Wow. It still felt so good and so surreal to call her that.

"I knew there was a reason why I liked you."

Paige grinned evilly at him. The playful twinkle in her eyes eased his nerves and he leaned over to her, arching an eyebrow. If she was up for a challenge, so was he. Screw Jakes and his warnings - '_You better keep it in yo' pants, boy - my car ain't a motel.' -._

"Ah, is that so?"

"Uh - uh, hey! At ease, soldier." His lips made a brief contact with the crook of her neck, before she pushed away his hands that were creeping up under the hem of her crop top cotton dress: the white skirt she was wearing barely reached her lower thighs and the neckline of her black crop top gave him a rather good view of her cleavage. Why would she wear _that_ on a date with him if she wanted him to behave? "C'mon, later! What are we watching?"

Mike chuckled when her hand came up to pat his head. He scooted back to his end of the seat.

"Think '_Mary Poppins_' could do?" He teased her with a fake sigh. Paige's eyes grew in size - realization hitting her on the spot. '_That sneaky cheater.'_

"Okay, you really should stop sneaking into my room. Too observant."

Indignation wasn't exactly what she was feeling in that moment. Had it been any other guy, she'd have used her fighting skills to make sure they'd never lay a foot in her room again - _ever again_. But Mike? He was a nitpicking control freak by nature, she should've expected he'd lay in her bed not just watching her sleep, but also taking as many cues as he could from his surroundings.

However, her words apparently came out the wrong way: Mike's eyes had filled with a hint of fear he might've gone too far this time and it kind of pained her to see that. Maybe he deserved a little mean teasing, but his big blue eyes didn't. She liked those two bright things he flashed back at her every morning they'd wake up together.

Again, maybe she was starting to like Mike even more that she thought she would… Of course this wasn't just sex anymore, but it was still pretty light. For now. _Right_?

Pushing her thoughts aside, Paige sneaked her hand up his chest and leaned up to his ear.

"You're lucky it's one of my favorite things about you."

Her warm words set the mood once again: the bar of their game of tease challenges slowly raising up each day more. He scooted closer again - his arm slid down from the seat to wrap around the middle of her back, while his lips caressed the shell of her ear, as a knowing smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.

"Really." He purred into her ear and traced a fingertip along the pattern of her collarbone. "And you have other things you like or…"

"A few more…" Their eyes met seductively for a brief second, before she touched her lips to the spot under his jaw.

Mike mimicked her action, burying his face into her neck, and teased the skin there with his teeth.

Paige couldn't help the soft moan from escaping her lips: his warm left hand skimmed up and down her right thigh, curled up on his lap, and left a tingling feeling creeping up in her body - his hands were always so abnormally warm, she was starting to doubt he was even human. Before she could even realize what was happening, Mike had pulled her sideways onto him: one leg on each side of his right thigh. His arms sneaked fully around her waist to squeeze her tightly and give his lips a chance to travel down the front of her body - he was having a hard time keeping himself from taking it further: she felt like silk every time he touched her and, as she pulled at his hair to have him closer, the casual noises she made didn't help him at all.

He was so into it that he felt like a bucket of ice was thrown out on him when she stilled in his arms and tensed. Mike raised his head to look up at her: he probably looked like a horny teenager, making a fool of himself in the front seat of a car with the girl he'd been wanting for years - his self control was literally screwed whenever she was around.

"You gotta be kidding me."

"What?"

"Look over there, your 3 o'clock, but don't look." Paige bit his lobe, as if undercover.

"How am I supposed to look and not to look at the same time?!" He frowned - a puzzled look on his face.

She made her way down his jawline and titled her head to dip her tongue in the hollow between his neck and shoulder.

Mike's eyes naturally fluttered close: he knew she was doing it to give him a full view of what she was talking about without making it too obvious, but _that_ still drove him crazy.

"Just pretend not to be looking! - Silver KIA?"

He ran his hand up her back and took a handful of her hair, holding her head into place; his other arm pressed tight against the middle of her back, so his eyes could scan the place.

"Got it."

There, two rows down from them, right at tend of the line of cars parked before the big screen, was a black haired, buffed up man - who looked quite too familiar to Mike - looking daggers at them.

Had they been normal people in such a normal situation, he would've guessed the man was just enjoying himself while waiting for the movie to start - wife and kid in the front seat. But his stare was much more insistent and, them being feds, it came more than natural for Mike to start doubting about the nature of his interest.

Before he could make a comment about it, Paige brought her lips back up to his ear.

"That's _him_." She whispered.

Paige felt his grip tighten around her waist and, even though she normally hated jealous guys, the thought of Mike wanting to claim her as his was quite relieving.

Sure enough, kissing and doing… _stuff _was more than a proof he hadn't gotten tired of her yet, but the fact that he was always ready to show his teeth for her made her feel quite in power - like she wasn't losing herself in this _thing _they had going on.

"Thought you had better taste than that."

"Obviously I don't." His comment, full of hot air, was met with a once over from her: she loosened her grip around his neck and raised an eyebrow, eyeing him up and down to make her point.

Thankfully, the mood hadn't changed, and grins came up on both of their faces: their past didn't matter, as far as Mike was concerned, because all he was interested in was her future. _Their_ future. And if that meant making a show every time one of her ex's stared or publicly pined for her, he would gladly be up for the job.

"He's staring at us - I'ma go over there and kick his balls int-"

"Hey." Scolding her, he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Just ignore him."

"Sorry."

When Paige looked down and started moving to get back to her side of the seat, she didn't even have time to fully express her casual apology that his lips were pressed up against hers. She held his face between her hands to keep herself from falling over.

"You're busy anyway."

...

If he had known watching an old style musical with Paige was going to be this much fun, Mike would have done that way, way sooner. It was hilarious to witness the way her lips clumsily formed each words to '_Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious_' or feel her whole body bouncing with excitement whenever a certain part of the movie came up - she literally knew every lyric or line by heart. It was like watching Charlie discovering Willy Wonka's factory for the first time or Alice having a mad tea party with the White Rabbit and the Hatter - okay, now he was just degenerating: Paige wasn't kidding when she said _her mom used to make her watch old movies. _During the commercials, she had listed him each one of her childhood favorites, so he wouldn't have had to snuck into her room again to _'investigate' _next time they'd do this - because they were going to do this again, she had made it very much clear.

Mike chuckled to himself as he strolled towards the food kiosk during the break for the treats Paige had requested. Actually, that she had _demanded_.

_'__One s'mores and one cookies 'n' cream*. And don't forget the cotton candy!'_

He still couldn't understand how it was possible for her to eat all that and still manage to look like… _damn_.

With a shake of his head, Mike took his place in line behind a father and son and waited for his turn. His mind drifted back to Paige once again: he knew she'd like this, he just didn't expect her to be so giddy over it. Not that he was complaining. He was so glad she was actually enjoying every second of it and not laughing in his face.

So lost in his thoughts, he hadn't even seen the man glancing back at him - or at least, he hadn't at first, 'cause when he did it again, Mike's eyes caught his and a cold stare was exchanged by the two. _'What a luck.'_

"So. Rumors are true. You guys are seeing each other, uh." The man addressed him, turning back to stare ahead, holding his son's hand.

Mike winked at the small child, as he looked up, curiously - he must've been around the age of 4. The math pretty much added up.

"Got a problem with that?" He mimicked him, crossing his arms and staring ahead of him, acting uninterested. He wasn't going to give him any satisfaction.

The man quickly turned around with a fake worried and shocked expression on his face. Mike held back a snort: what a slimy asshole.

"Oh no, no, no. Agent Warren. I was just very surprised to see you here. You seemed very professional - barely going out kind of dude."

"Well, _my girl_ likes it here, so."

Mike smirked when the man's jaw set tight. However, the hardened line poking through his beard covered skin soon disappeared under his newfound cocky facade.

_My girl_. He hadn't even meant to be so _possessive_ and make it sound so _aggressive_, but he was glad it had come out that way: if that hadn't sent the message loud and clear, he didn't know what would.

But what came next made his blood boil into his veins - it ran furiously through his body like liquid fire straight to his brains.

"Oh yeah, I remember pretty well what she likes. But I'm sure you do too, of course. If not better. However, handle her with care - girl's got claws she ain't afraid to use, you'll be sore in the morning."

The man was now next to him. Mike mentally realized how many people were left in line before him. 2.

_'__Just hold a little longer. Don't screw it up, Paige wouldn't want you to.'_

Easier said than done. He kept staring ahead of him, avoiding the man's glance but he was really struggling to keep his fists from colliding with his face, seeing as they felt like having a mind of their own. His knuckles turning white.

The black haired father laid an arm over his shoulders and patted his back.

"You see, she is… feisty. But…" He leant over, making sure his words didn't go unheard to the FBI agent. "…she's a very complicated girl."

"Oh, is that what you told your _wife_?"

This time, Mike wasn't going to avoid his eyes: he let his arms fall at his sides and turned around to stand face to face with the man - a victorious and knowing smile well exposed on his lips. Whereas the man looked like was going to explode: of course, he probably hadn't expected that Paige would actually share _their secret_ with him. Maybe - no, surely - he had thought that he was just one of Paige's latest hook-ups she would never confide in.

The kid was now tugging eagerly at his angry looking father's sleeve. Mike smirked even more, nodding towards the kiosk.

"You up, _Torres_. Don't keep your _kid_ waiting."

...

The credits were still rolling on the screen when Paige started poking him, still curled up into his lap - somewhere during the second half of the movie, she had stretched her legs out and hung them off his right thigh, just so she could manage to sit halfway onto him and rest all her food on her right side, with her hand constantly buried in her bag of popcorn. It hadn't been long before he had wrapped her up into his arms, thanking whatever had eased her into making such a brave, non-Paige like move in public.

Okay, they weren't in public - they were in the '_safety_' of Jakes's pick-up, but it still was nice to see her relaxing into their relationship like that. Apparently, feeding her sugar had the same effect it had on a child. Something Mike wasn't exactly hating in that moment.

"Say it." Her index dug deeply into his side, making him squirm. "Say it, Mike."

"Fine!" He threw his head back in exasperation, laughing to himself. "This old stuff ain't that bad after all."

"And?"

Mike leant his head back on the seat and looked at her with loving eyes: she knew he'd do anything she'd ask for and she was blatantly taking advantage of that to embarrass him. Evil, evil woman.

"Aaaand, I take it back. '_Mary Poppins_' being your guilty pleasure surprisingly makes sense."

"Thank you."

Paige beamed at him, sloppily - and childishly indeed - kissing his cheek, before climbing off his lap to let him turn on the engine.

A thought she had been pushing to the back of her mind all night long lighted a glimmer in her eyes. Before he could press on the gas pedal, she leant into him. One hand slowly hitching up his thigh, as she breathed on his neck. Mike's Adam apple bounced down and back up as he swallowed nervously and his eyes shut in frustration.

"You know, I have one more guilty pleasure I can't seem to get tired of."

* * *

><p>The second rare time Graceland was completely silent - something very much an usual in the Federal household - was interrupted by the slamming of the front door and the equal disturbing sound of things falling onto the floor.<p>

Jakes, Charlie and Zelanski - beers in hand, completely spread out on the couch to catch a midnight movie on tv - looked quizzically at the main entrance.

Two giggling shadows, wrapped up in each other, stumbled their way down the steps and almost fell down on the floor, as they tried to reach the stairs without detaching their fused lips. Both oblivious to their roommates eyeballing them.

"What the-" Wayne murmured, holding a chip mid air right in front of his mouth, feeling uneasy, yet mesmerized by the way Paige's thighs tightened around Mike's hips as he swiftly picked her up to run up the stairs.

"The kid sure knows how to use that mouth." Charlie commented - the sip she took out of her beer clearly hiding an amused smirk - and shrugged at the DEA agent laying next to her.

The sound of Paige's door slamming and a few more crashes, mixed up with giggles and squeals, caused Jakes to groan in disgust. He threw his bag of _Cheetos_ on the coffee table, and snatched his beer back on the way. Charlie hid another grin.

"I've just lost my appetite."

***they're two of my favorite flavored popcorn! My American friend made them last year at her birthday party and I've been making them since then! :D**


	21. Molecules beyond the clouds

**Hello! This is more of a filler and I'm sorry it turned out to be this bad, but I had to basically summon up three chapters into this one by taking what I thought were the best parts and connecting them to make sense.**

**I'm almost done with my exams, my last one will be this Friday, so I'll update whenever i have time and my muse feel like to! lol**

**Thank you for all your GL love, reviews and messages!**  
><strong>- xo, Mel<strong>

* * *

><p>There's nothing more annoying than a phone ringing in the middle of the night, tearing you away from some of the best sleep you've ever had. If Paige could have it her way, she would switch off every damn thing in the house at night.<p>

Unfortunately, they were federal agents and they had to be reachable. _Always_. Guns, wounds, danger and death weren't a problem. Being woken up at night - that was the worst side effect of her job.

Maybe if they just let it ring, whoever was calling would get tired and give up. But obviously, that couldn't be the case, they just couldn't do that.

Paige nudged Mike's leg with her foot.

"Mike. Phone." She managed to croak out and eventually buried her face into the pillow.

The warm, strong body that was pressed up against her back, in their now usual spooning position, shifted uncomfortably. He squeezed her with his arm still holding her waist and moved his face from her hair.

When he lifted his warm hand from its place on her stomach to reach for his phone, Paige shivered at the cool air blowing on the exposed skin: summer was slowly coming to an end and, even thought Mike made a damn perfect blanket, she was now terribly missing her comfy duvet resting on her own bed, just two rooms away.

She rolled over and snuggled back into him, her face buried deep onto his stomach, as he scooted up to a half sitting position to take the call. She threw one leg over his and clutched his t-shirt with her hands.

"Sleep." Paige murmured, already halfway back into her slumber.

Mike nodded and ran his fingers through her hair, scratching the back of her head absentmindedly to lull her into sleep.

However, his soothing gesture came to a halt when the voice on the other end made his whole body freeze and his heart beat fast.

He quickly, yet gently, pushed Paige off of him and threw his legs over the side of the bed to get up; the blonde DEA agent, now fully awake, sat back on her knees and watched him apprehensively - her nose scrunched up in confusion as he started pacing. Angrily. This was no good, at all.

...

_'__I got word from Mexico. They're sending a new batch. As soon as they're here, you can get your girls and go.'_

_'__How the hell are they gonna do that?'_

_'Maybe with cruise ships, I don't know. Is that a problem?'_

_'__No. But time is and so are their conditions - we had a deal. Wednesday, you said. Now what? You're backing off?'_

_'__Wednesday? That's negotiation.'_

_'__Bullshit. We've had that already - I want my girls.'_

_'__You'll have your girls when and how I say so, you prick.'_

_Click_.

...

Mike curled his hand into a fist as he stared down at Harold's phone. His body started shaking with uncontrollable anger and, had he been outside and not in a house full of sleeping people, he would have screamed like a mad man. Let all his frustrations out with a long, loud and stressed yell.

Instead, he did the first and easiest thing he could do in that moment: with a fast swing of his arm, he threw his phone away with such force it crashed against the dresser and ended up shattered down on the floor.

"Fuck!" He hissed and started angrily pacing again.

"What? What's wrong?"

Even though Paige had expected a similar reaction from him, it had actually startled her when his anger had exploded out that way. Mike shook his head - his feet stomping down on the floor with each step he took. He was going to dig a hole if he kept pacing like that.

"He's playing hard to get."

"What do you mean 'hard to get'?"

"I mean, I don't have a date, hence I don't have a deal. Just that stupid layaway plan! I'm running out of time and - oh gee, why am I even telling you this? You've been against it from the start!"

What. The. Heck. Was he really taking this out on her? Paige furrowed her eyebrows and titled her head to the side, examining him.

"You're right, I have and it looks like I had every right to!"

She knew where he was coming from. She was feeling just as mad and disappointed as he was, if not more - her girls were just this close to being set free and now, thanks to that monster, their nightmare wasn't going to end as soon as they had both thought.

But that didn't give him the right to get mad at her for it, nor to act like an ass.

"Whatever. Just go and tell me '_told you so_'. I know you're all dying to see me drown." Mike, who had been staring back at her in a moment of apparent calm, with his hands on his hips, snorted.

He turned his back to her, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm so stupid - I shouldn't have gotten you's as my team."

Paige's eyebrows shot all the way up and disappeared under the stubborn and messy strands of hair framing her face. This was definitely getting out of control.

She raised her hand, letting out a sarcastic laugh. He had to be just letting some steam out, because there was no way he could truly think that.

However, she couldn't help the warning tone and nuisance in her voice when she spoke up.

"Okay, now you need to shut the fuck up."

"This ain't gonna work. You don't know how to run this. Maybe-"

But Mike wasn't listening. Mike wasn't being Mike. He was letting anger get a hold of him and turning in that selfish asshole version of himself she hated so much.

"You know what? Go fuck yourself. I've had enough of this." Embracing herself, Paige swung her legs over her side of the bed and retrieved her discarded top from the floor.

She threw it on as quickly as she could - her hands shaking. Mike's eyes caught sight of her movement and he stilled.

"Where are you going?"

He took a step closer, as she turned around to look for her shorts - her hands freeing her hair from the collar of her top.

"I can't stay here. Because if I do I might get blood on your walls." She said, hastily fixing her eyes into his.

The air was so thick around them now that they could've been swallowed by it any minute.

Mike held her stare for a few seconds, before finally giving up and running a hand through his hair.

"Paige-" He whispered.

He didn't get to finish, though: she wouldn't allow him to, because she had heard enough. He had _said_ enough. There was no absolute or palpable sense in what he was implying. This wasn't anybody's fault but his. It wasn't hers, it wasn't Charlie's, it wasn't Paul's, nor Johnny's, Wayne's or Dale's. It was _Mike's_ fault.

Okay, maybe it wasn't his fault either, but who the hell did he think he was to speak like that?

So she did what she could do best in this kind of situation: she cut him off.

"No." Her voice stopped him from getting any closer. "You really need to get your shit together, 'cause I won't stand here any longer taking all the crap you're throwing at 'em. Those guys are _our_ family."

Mike rolled his eyes.

"Oh c'mon! I've never been part of this messed up, crappy thing you call _family._"

"That's because you've never wanted to!"

Finally, as her hand came close to opening the door, Paige whipped her head around and snapped at him: the great weight and nasty venom of his previous words were suddenly slapped back into his face by the force of her blowup.

Silence followed and neither one of them dared to speak. Their eyes tied up together by a string of electricity that made Mike's heart tighten at the sight of her hardened face. How he hated seeing that look of disgust on her features; it made him feel incapable of doing anything. Paige had quickly become his strength; without her, he felt like nothing. Without her strength, he felt weaker. Scratch that, he felt empty. Like a part of him was torn into pieces and destroyed.

In that moment, all he could think about was something he had read somewhere a while ago: '_when you meet someone, they fill this hole inside of you, and then when they're gone… you feel that space painfully vacant_.'

No. That wasn't going to happen. Not to him - not to them. He wasn't going to lose her. Especially not over his stupid, selfish and proud self.

The screeching sound of his door handle shook him out of his thoughts and, before she could even set a foot out, Mike had his hand laying flat on the surface to close it again with a dull _thud_.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He whispered, over and over again, into her ear - his hands sneaking around her hips to clutch her tightly to him. "I'm a real jerk."

He lovingly brushed his lips over the back of her neck in a tender kiss.

"You don't say."

Even though she tensed up under his touch, his lips kept caressing the soft skin of her nape, until she eased into him and he felt confident enough to drop a longer kiss on the gentle curve of her shoulder. He was about to release her, when she brought one of her hands to rest on his. Her voice came out like a whisper - a slight hint of pain laying underneath.

"You don't get it, do you? It's not what you said that bothers me, it's _how_ you said it."

"And how was that?"

"Like it's all just work to you. Graceland doesn't mean shit to you because you see it as practical. We're not your family, we're just part of your OP. We're temporary."

"You're anything but temporary to me."

Paige swore she was about to gag. That was not the time to get sentimental - she broke free from his arms and sure enough the torpor his caresses had sent her into disappeared.

Their eyes met again and the dampened wrath of a few moments before lit up again. Mike closed his eyes for a brief moment: he was tired - both physically and emotionally. And it was late, so very late for two people who had had a long day. All they had was night-time to spend together, why couldn't they just forget everything and go back to sleep? He had messed up - that was true, yet he had also apologized.

But she had to give him a hard time, didn't she? She wouldn't be Paige if she didn't. It was weird how he hated her when she acted like that and how bad he wanted her altogether.

"This ain't about us! Is that all you care about? A good laid?"

She was going to be the death of him. He had known that from the moment he had realized he had fallen for her. Hard and fast.

"_You_'re what I care about!"

There was no way he could deny her anything. Just like there was no way she was going to let this go.

"Well, I don't want to be! There's more to Graceland than just me, Mike. This is my home, they're my people. If you're not bound to see it as that but you're drawn to it because of me, then maybe you should really make your choice of going back to DC." She trailed off - the last part sounded weak and hesitant even to her own ears.

Mike shut his eyes tight. For a moment, Paige thought he was going to hit something again.

"_Don't_."

But when he spoke, she was able to hear - to _feel_ - the awful effect her words had had on him. However, it was only after he had opened his eyes that she felt guilt wash over her and her hands itching to touch him: his blue irises were tinged with sadness she knew came from the way she had blatantly, yet subtly told him to leave Graceland once again.

Last time, she had advised him to do so for himself. Now, she was selfishly indulging him to go to avoid a very complicated situation - that of figuring out if their _thing_ was really going to last, even after the case would be finally over.

She had taken advantage of his _mad outburst _and turned it around to wickedly seize the moment. But now, she was struggling with keeping her conscience - and most of all, those emotions she so desperately wanted to keep buried deep inside of her - under control.

"Don't say that, okay?! - Look, I'm just so pissed off right now. Everything's stressing me out to an unbelievable level. I feel suffocated by my whole life! When I think I'm this close to end the case, Sulla comes out as the two-faced bastard that he is to make sure I understand he's in charge. And to top it all off, I've got the director breathing down my neck from miles away. Plus I have yet to find the bastard tipping Carlito off-"

Emotions that had now completely taken control of her.

"Mike, Mike. Stop! Take a deep breath, okay? Listing down all this shit won't help." She gushed over him, putting her pride aside, and cradled his face in her hands.

Her thumbs ghosted over the corners of his mouth as she tried to soothe him: the stress of all those days was shaking him inside like a earthquake, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He was about to crumble right in front of her; she instinctively laid her forehead on his.

"I'm failing, Paige. Miserably." His voice cracked in a breathy confession on her lips.

"No, you're not. I'd really like to tell you '_told_ _you_ _so_', but I can't. Wanna know why?"

"Why?"

Paige made sure Mike's eyes were open and free to stare into hers, before speaking again - to give him the confidence he needed. She ran a hand through his hair, softly threading her fingers through the messy, blonde strands that looked just as dark as his unusual stormy eyes in the darkness of his room.

"'Cause I know for a fact that you'll find a way to get through this. You will, Mike. I know you will. There's no other possible way for things to turn out."

A hint of a smile appeared on his face, as he grasped her wrist and brought her soothing hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to each one of her fingers and Paige felt her stomach flutter with uneasiness.

She needed to learn how to resist this - the urge she felt to comfort him every time he was about to fall. She needed to learn how to resist _him_. She couldn't be this weak because of a _boy_ - she kept repeating to herself.

It was when things like this happened that she started to willingly reflect on where they stood, on how they had gotten to that point and on how things had changed since he had come into her life.

Since he had started getting under skin. She would wonder what she would have been like now if he had never come back to Graceland - if he had never come to Graceland at all.

"What would I do without you, uh?"

And it was when that happened - that '_I'm-reading-your-mind_' kind of thing it always seemed to happen with Mike - that she felt like their _thing _made sense in her life.

She mentally pinched herself: what the hell was wrong with her? Had Mike's insane mawkishness started rubbing off on her or what?

Paige was hardcore, Mike was softcore. It had always been like that and _it was going to stay that way, no matter what_.

She put on a smug smirk and leaned in - her eyes glimmering maliciously in the moonlight.

"I'm pretty sure you'd get reacquainted with your palm."

And just like that, they were Paige and Mike again: their lips touched and everything was forgotten.

All those wrong words, assumptions, worries and problems seeped through the slit under the door and they were left in their own bubble.

She was soon flush agains his chest when he pressed his hands to the sides of her face and beckoned her toward the bed, until the back of her knees hit the mattress and they naturally fell on it. Her body gave way to his, as they got lost into each other once again - hands tugged softly at his hair when their lips slowly parted ways.

He looked down at her with that look of worshipping adoration she would never get used to and that made her feel so special, yet scared of what it might mean. She really didn't want to think about that. At least, not yet.

"I think we should slow down a little bit. Everything's been happening so fast, maybe it's better if we get some space from each other. You have too much going on already."

Her eyes glanced at his hand resting on her hip for a brief moment: Paige had pretended not to notice the shiny green stoned thin string of leather tied up around his right wrist, but truth to be told, that had been the first thing that got her attention that morning.

She had been meaning to question him about it, but then she had chickened out, knowing full well what his answer would have been.

_'__I don't need to figure out what I feel for you, I know that already.'_

She knew he did. But _she_ didn't want to know it. She wanted to stay like this - forever. She didn't want to put a label to her feelings. The only label she wanted was _Mike's_.

It had taken her ages to come to that conclusion - to actually accept it - and that was more than she could bear to go through at the moment.

"You're getting tired of me?"

Her heart ached again. God, he had to have it so bad for her if he was willing to go through all the shit she was putting him through, just to be with her.

"No, Mike. I'm not." Her nails scratched softly the back of his head, before she scrambled back from under him and stood up again. "But you're feeling suffocated by it all and you should have some time for yourself."

When she turned around to look at him, Mike had moved to sit up at the edge of the bed - his eyes stubbornly looking at her. Reaching out, he took one of her hands and pulled her back closer.

Paige stood in front of him. She mentally threatened herself - all sorts of threats - in order not to give into the tender brush of his thumb on her knuckles.

"When I said I'm feeling suffocated… I didn't mean you."

"I know."

Two syllables that echoed in the room for less than a second, but that soon became the soundtrack of an intense stare. None of them seemed to be able to break it or to even make a move, until Mike decided to break the spell and jutted his lower lip out - he could read Paige pretty well by now, but when she put on her stony facade, he didn't know whether she wanted to stay or to go.

All he could do was be crafty and use everything in his power to manipulate her mind. Something he wasn't sure he was capable of, but it sure as hell was worth a try.

He wetted his lip for the sake of dramatic effect and waited - his eyes squinting tightly when his cheeks blowed up with a suppressed laugh.

Paige's puffed up just the same, before she burst out in a gleeful and amused chuckle.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, you know that?"

Mike's lips curled up into a smile, as his eyes watched her cheekily avoiding his extended hand and circling the bed to get back in. Maybe it was true, he should've been ashamed of being a grown up man using a child trick to get what he wanted, but if that was what it took to make her smile… he would do it every time it was needed.

"Are you coming or what?"

Scooting back up toward his pillow, Mike spooned her and brushed her hair back. He breathed insistently on her neck, waiting for her to finally give in.

It was Paige's turn to smile now: rolling over, she fell back into his arms and snuggled up his chest - her face resting in the crook of his neck.

_This_. What he had with this woman. _This_ was exactly what he needed and wanted, no matter how much of a roller coaster she could be. He would take each twist and turn, up and down, as long as he had her by his side.

* * *

><p>Mike's hand came back empty when he reached out, hours later, to the side of his bed where a warm body should have been. He tried again, moving it further to the edge, but all he could feel under the pad of his fingers was the way too fresh softness of his gray sheets.<p>

He forced his eyes open to stare at the empty spot. He looked back into the bathroom, furrowing his eyebrows when all he saw was plain darkness. Where the hell was Paige?

Before his brain started to panic - creating weird ninja incursions or alien raids theories (he really needed to stop hanging around Johnny so much) - he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

On his way, he passed by Paige's room, which was just the way it had been before they had gone to sleep: the door had been left open for people to know where she was, in case they'd needed her - in _Mike's_ room. Or at least, where she was supposed to be, seeing as she had gone missing in just a couple of hours of much needed sleep.

When he reached the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water, a sense of alarming confusion shot through his body: everything was dark downstairs and there was no sign of Paige. Now, he was really starting to panic.

And he certainly would have, hadn't she come through the patio doors at the same time he had switched the lights on. Both squinted their eyes, trying to adjust to the brightness blinding them.

"Where you been?" Mike asked, joining her at the counter.

Paige rubbed her eyes, visibly tired, and cleared her throat.

"I needed some fresh air. I woke up feeling kind of dizzy and nauseous. Must've been something I ate."

"Mhm" He brushed his thumb on her cheek, soothing her flushed skin. "You should've told me. You alright?"

"I didn't want to wake you." She nodded, dismissing his worried stare with a flirtatious smile. "You didn't wake up because I wasn't there, did you? 'Cause that'd be kinda creepy."

Her teasing tone made the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach go away and Mike flashed a brief smile back at her.

"I was thirsty."

He held up his bottle of water, tapping it on the tip of her nose, mockingly, before he proceeded to take a long gulp.

"I'm goin' to my room, okay?"

Paige blurted out, watching him. Mike's eyes flipped back to hers in confusion. He lowered his bottle, confused.

"Wha-"

"I need space."

"I thought we were past that."

Hurt flashed through his eyes and Paige's hands sprung back up to his shoulders, as if trying to stop him from working questionable and absurd thoughts about her _getting tired of him. _Again.

"Not from you! I mean, to breathe, y'know?"

"Mhm."

"Go back to sleep, I'll see you in the morning."

Even though she was sure Mike hadn't been entirely convinced by her reasons, she tried to brush whatever his thoughts were off by working her lips on his.

Patiently, slowly and tenderly.

The kind of kiss he usually gave to her, but that she usually wouldn't go for when kissing him.

As predicted, it took him off guard and, as he reached one of his hand up her shirt, Paige's senses went on high alert and her whole body tensed.

If Mike had noticed the sudden change, he didn't show it.

She grasped his wrist before it could made contact with her stomach and she pulled away, following his retrieving figure with her eyes.

When he was out of sight and had disappeared at the top of the stairs, she waited for the sound of his door closing before turning around to slide the french doors open again.

A mop of black hair silently sneaked their way in. Paige looked Zelanski straight into the eye, before following Mike's lead and going upstairs, back to her room. Her hand protectively clutching the shirt where Mike's hand had tried to creep under moments before.

"Wait a few mints and then go."


	22. Kaleidoscope

**Hello! **

**Just to reassure all of you who asked in the reviews/messages: you'll find out what's happening between Zelanski and Paige in the next 3 chapters (more or less, it depends on the cuts I'll make). You'll just have to be patient here, 'cause I need these parts for the whole thing to make sense.**

**I just like this love triangle they make, Mike/Paige/Zelanski. Well, the Paige/Mike/Jessica one too! That's why I kept them ^^**

**Enjoy and thank you for all your reviews-messages-favorites!**

**SPOILER ALERT: Jealous Mike is on his way ;)**

**- xo, Mel**

* * *

><p>Whispering.<p>

Unless it was between you and someone you really liked, whispering was terribly annoying. Especially if it was morning and that someone you liked was whispering stuff to somebody else.

Who even invented whispering? It was just stupid. And disrespectful. And really, really rude. And that apple looked good. And so did that bowl of cereal.

And Mike had officially gone crazy.

He hadn't had a very good sleep, between Sulla calling and Paige gone missing, but what had really turned his head into a mess that morning was the sight that greeted him in the kitchen.

When he reached the counter, Paige's back was facing him and so was Zelanski's: the two were whispering to each other - how he hated that - and leaning over the sink, confabulating. Too close for things to be normal. They had never stood _that_ close to each other.

Mike was about to make himself known when Wayne's eyes met his and, nudging his fellow DEA agent in the side to turn around, tore his hands away from her and hid them behind his back.

He frowned. _What the hell was that?_

However, before he could even do something about it, Paige turned around and greeted him with a sweet smile.

Now, _that_ was a great way to greet someone in the morning. How could he resist that smile?

Even if that smile meant something was indeed going on?

Paige had always been grumpy - she wasn't a morning person. At all. The fact that she'd been already up for a while, judging by her flawless make-up, was a proof per se of how big of a disinclination it was for her to wake up before him. It just wasn't… right.

"Hey." She beamed at him, shoving Zelanski away from her and going back to eating cereal.

Mike followed their weird interaction, slowly walking closer.

"'Morning." He watched Wayne turning back to the sink, skeptically - his eyes only moved away from his buffed up form when he finally stood behind Paige and gave her a smooth kiss on the cheek.

"Feelin' any better?" Stroking her arm up and down, he moved over to the fridge.

Paige shivered at the touch, but didn't tense up like she had the night before.

'_Good, that's good_.' She told herself. As long as she could keep it like that, everything would be alright. Nothing was going to change. At least, that was what she hoped.

Taking a spoonful, she gulped down a huge bite of cereal, all at once, while Mike fished for a spoon to go with his yogurt. He looked at her, a funny expression on his face, not at all weirded out by her tomboyishness, as he peeled the lid off.

"Yeah - told you it must've been something I ate."

Knowing her, she had probably been dreaming of junk food all night: Paige and patience weren't a good combination. They just didn't match. It wouldn't be that much of a surprise if she hadn't been able to hold herself back from eating, even though her stomach was still feeling quite funny.

"Good." He took a spoonful of his yogurt himself and went to stand next to her. His eyes fixed on Zelanski's back that was still facing him, before making a run down the side of her face. "I missed you, you know?"

He played around with his yogurt and mentally scolded himself for sounding so clingy - his side purposely brushing against hers.

"It was just for a couple of hours."

Mike couldn't help but feel weirded out this time, as she shrugged nervously and slightly scooted away from him, abandoning her cereal. Her hands gripped the side of the counter and he titled his head at her, furrowing his eyebrows.

She had never been comfortable with being affectionate in public, but they were alone. Well, technically they weren't but Zelanski barely counted. At least, until the night before.

Now, it seemed like Wayne was this huge elephant that wouldn't let her be her usual teasing and fun self. Or maybe Mike was the elephant, judging by the way she was smartly and anxiously avoiding to even look at him.

"Yeah, but I've got-"

He tried once more to get her attention and reached out for her, but with no such luck whatsoever. He closed his eyes, irritated, as her shriek echoed through the kitchen. She pried herself from the counter and sprung toward a horribly beaten up Johnny, who had just irrupted into the kitchen.

"Jesus, what happened to you?!"

"'Morning," The FBI agent didn't bother to reply and pushed her hands away, as she reached out to inspectorate the nasty, bleeding cuts covering his face.

Mike cringed at the sight. Of course, Paige was _so_ important to him, but the fact that he had damned Johnny for interrupting his failing attempts of talking to her was now making him feel so uncomfortable and guilty: his friend had been attacked and all he could think about was a pretty face?

Yeah, _Paige's_ pretty face. _'Shame on you, Warren.'_ He thought.

"Mike, can I talk to you real quick?"

Paige looked back at him - their eyes meeting for more than a second for the first time that morning. However, it was Mike now who didn't want to make a connection with her.

He set his yogurt down and cleaned his hands, nodding at his friend. Judging by his serious eyes and drastic tone, this had something to do with the case - Johnny wasn't one to be this grumpy in the morning, contrary to the beautiful woman at his side.

Once again, his words died in his throat when a loud bang upstairs echoed in the household - so loud he actually jumped at the sound. Startled by the furious noises just like the others in the room. They all looked toward the stairs, from which a few moments later an hyper angry looking Charlie descended - more like stomped -, followed close by Briggs.

"Fuck off, Paul. I'm tired of this shit."

"So am I! Especially of you!" Briggs echoed her words, hovering from the last step. He stopped himself from going further and waited for her reaction: Charlie whipped around with fire in her eyes.

"Yo! People are still sleepin' up here!"

Dale's voice boomed from upstairs, but Charlie ignored his loud grumbling and lunged forwards with a long list of profanities escaping from her mouth, directed at Graceland's oldest agent. He let out a bitter laugh, gripping her wrists to shove her back.

"Woah, what's wrong babe?! Truth hurts, uh?"

"Truth?! You don't even know what that means! _You're not honest with anybody_!"

"Neither are you!"

"At least I'm not a fuckin' lame ass cheater!"

Mike watched as Charlie's last words hit Briggs straight to the core and sent him in a passive state: with a great, powerful shove, he was smacked right into the wall; she looked at him with hast and visible disgust - her face contorted in accusation - before turning around and making an exit with one loud bang. Luckily, _the door was more or less still on its hedges._

At least, Charlie was being Charlie.

What the hell was happening that morning? The night before, everything had been okay: Paige had been Paige, Johnny had been Johnny, Briggs had been Briggs.

Now everything was reversed: Paige was Johnny, being all cheery and sweet in the morning; Johnny was being Paige, all grumpy and pissed off. Oh, and Briggs: Briggs was a cheater now? When the hell did that happen? He knew he was full of lies and secrets, but he would've never thought of him as a cheater. _This was _so_ getting out of control._

After Charlie's exit, silence had completely taken over the entire house. You could almost hear Jakes snoring upstairs, even though his door was closed - as always. One more ordinary thing Mike had never quite liked, but was glad for in that moment.

Paul woke up from his catatonic state when he took a few steps and saw four pair of eyes watching him intensely, especially Mike's: while the others' looks shifted from sympathetic to curious, Mike's was stormy. Hard. Judgmental. Like he wanted to beat the shit out of him.

Which he would have found out being true, had he been able to read his mind: Charlie had been the first one - after Johnny - to welcome Mike in the house and she had also been the only one standing by his side when nobody else would. Well, after Paige. Of course, in a very much different way.

Saying he cared a hell of a lot about her would have been an understatement.

"She… ehm, she's just having a rough time."

Briggs cleared his throat, diverting his eyes from the group. They all nodded, comprehensively, except for, surprise surprise, Mike.

The FBI agent smirked sarcastically, still staring at him - he took a few steps closer and stood in front of his ex mentor: their eyes inevitably met in a challenging gaze and Mike spat his next words harshly and bitterly in his face. They bounced off his lips and hit Paul straight away: he could've fooled anyone, but he certainly couldn't fool the one who had succeeded in defeating Jangles when he hadn't been able to.

"Yeah, I bet she is."

They were too much alike to fool each other.

* * *

><p>Her room was always open. <em>Always<em>.

Mike couldn't remember one time he had gone see her or talk to her and found the door shut, except for those few times - actually, lots of times now - they had been fighting. Paige believed in Graceland and in its power to _make you feel safe _and, as if to prove that to everyone - even herself - she would always leave her door open.

To show there were no secrets in Graceland, that if somebody needed a hand or any sort of help, she was there to listen.

So, now that he was standing in front of her closed door, he was starting to wonder if that had changed overnight. Or if that had changed just for _him_.

He shook his head, brushing off that thought - which was most likely just the product of his last sort of sleepless nights - and knocked on her door.

It felt weird to actually do that, now. It was perfectly normal, but to him it felt weird. That was Paige: just last night they were spooning and now he was knocking, as if afraid of invading her personal space.

_Invading_. Mike felt stupid just thinking that.

"Come in."

Her faint reply filtered through the door, giving him the permission he needed to step in. When he did, he was met with the sight of her, laying on her side with her back to the door - her laptop open and resting on one of the numerous pillows scattered all over her bed.

She peeked over her shoulder to look at him.

"Hey, you busy?" He tried to smile at her - not too wide, not too faintly.

When she smiled back, he felt relief seeping through his limbs. Maybe, that morning had just been different, but things hadn't changed. Maybe he had just imagined it all. Maybe it had all been the lack of sleep.

"Just checking on a case. What's up?"

Paige's eyes took in the firmness of his back as he turned around to close the door - his muscles showing briefly through the blue sweater he was wearing.

It was weird for her door to be closed, but Mike closing it was just as weird: he never did that, unless he had serious business to discuss. Or unless he wanted to get some privacy and have… _fun_.

Something she highly doubted, seeing as he knelt down by her bed and leaned his chin on the curve of her side.

"We found Carlito." He murmured, slumping one arm around her hips.

Paige, who had meanwhile gone back to typing on her laptop, swiftly moved her gaze from the screen to his eyes - surprise written all over her face.

"What? Really?"

Mike nodded.

"Mhm. He's in Mexico. Johnny stepped by and shit went down with two gun smugglers. He has his sister with him."

Paige whistled. She then breathed through her nose and pushed her laptop away. Maybe things were starting to fall into place after all. Maybe, her girls would be free sooner than she thought.

Now that they knew where Carlito was, Mike was going to push Johnny to his limits, but knowing both of them, if they worked together - _together_ - they would have their victory pretty much served on a silver plate.

But she also knew how stressed and insecure Mike was getting over this. So she rolled on her back and fully laid down, making space for him to join her.

Sensing her intention, Mike slowly brought himself up on the mattress and laid on his side right next to her. A soft line of casual, small kisses was drawn on her collarbone by his lips, before his head came resting on her chest - one arm still secured around her hips.

"Did they do that to his face?"

He nodded again.

"They kept him and Lucia tied up until one of Solano's hitmen came to rescue them - they killed one another."

"Shit. What are you gonna do now?"

They laid in silence for a while, with Mike half laying on top of her and Paige cradling his head on her chest, like a child - her fingers ran soothingly and comfortingly through his hair. It felt good, natural. As if that embrace was enough to sweep every problem away.

He almost felt like that was the case, had it not been for her pending question. A very hard question if you asked him, because he had absolutely no idea what to do. Everything had taken such an incredible turn that it could blow up anytime now.

He hadn't been kidding when he had said that _the entire operation was a house of cards._

"You want to use her as a medium to get to Solano, don't you?" Paige's voice rang softly in his ears, as her fingers brushed his hair back.

"There's no other way. I doubt Carlito's going to come back here to get her."

"Yeah, seems like our only option." She sighed.

Mike shifted so his chin was now resting on her chest - his eyes staring off into space as his spoke. Paige studied his thoughtful features and her hand stilled on the back of his head.

"I'll have to send out a warrant for her arrest as a triple homicide suspect."

"You don't sound so sure about it."

" 'Cause I'm not. I'm not sure about anything anymore, Paige. All I know is I can't fail." He voiced out what he had been thinking up until that moment.

His eyes darted back to Paige's, looking for an answer. Just like he had when Briggs had gone missing.

And just like that one time, Paige smiled sadly at him: he knew what she would have said if he had actually asked her. _She wasn't the answer._

"You won't fail. You're Mike Warren - I have faith in you."

The second her fingers started caressing their way down his back, he knew he was going to lose it. He always lost it around her - maybe she hadn't been wrong before, he _was_ a loser. Because he found himself losing every battle against her. He was defeated even before it started.

"What if I let you down?" She brushed her thumb over his cheekbone, with sparkling eyes.

Her teasing tone forced a genuine smile on his face - all nice losses, after all.

"Then you're gonna have to make it up to me."

Especially when she worked her magic on him like she was doing now. She just drove him insane, with all her shades of craziness and provoking _virtues_. Even the smallest detail could send him over the edge.

She bent her leg - her knee casually brushed over his outer thigh, making him shiver. It hadn't been on purpose, but Paige smiled a small smile of victory when his eyes fluttered close and he breathed through his nose.

"Mhm."

It wasn't long before they found themselves completely lost into each other - their lips glued together, not daring to part ways. But it wasn't long either before Mike's hands started to roam and found their way down her leg and up her shirt.

At first, she hadn't put much thought into it and kept roaming her own hands down his chest. His fingers brushed tentatively over the soft skin above the waistband of her shorts and, had they slid under, she wouldn't have minded one bit. But they slipped up, further up - stubbornly traveling toward her stomach.

Her eyes shot open and, when he moved his open mouthed kisses down her neck, she took that as an opportunity to speak.

"Um, I'd love to do - _oh_, this but I have to-" Paige bit back a moan, as his lips wrapped around her pulse and his teeth sunk briefly into her skin, before his tongue took over to soothe the tortured spot. "I have work to do, Mike."

She curled her fingers around his wrist and stilled his hand on her skin.

Mike bored his eyes into hers, trying to control himself from diving once more on her lips. He shook his head and pulled himself up to sit down.

"Right. Right, I'm sorry."

"You can stay if you want, I don't mind a little company."

She reached one hand to rest on his shoulder. Mike leant over with a smile, brushing his fingers along her arm, but they were soon interrupted by Wayne walking into her room. Like the most natural thing in the world. As if he had been doing that for a long, long time now.

"Hey, I've just gotten your text, yo- oh, sorry. I - I can come back later."

Zelanski froze on his way to the bed: Mike was still leaning over Paige, but his eyes were now set firmly on the DEA agent holding his phone with his mouth agape.

The look he was giving him was far from being _friendly. _It's not that he had something against Wayne - he was a good guy and also a pretty good agent, but just like he had told Paige many times before, the guy _fawned_ _over_ _her_ way too much for his liking and the fact that he was now going in and out of her room without even knocking wasn't exactly helping him to get on his good list.

Now that they had everything settled, Mike knew Paige was getting used to see him as her boyfriend. Hell, she had even called him that herself. She had been '_in her PMS_', of course - he still felt pretty weirded out by the fact she had thought it would be okay for him to know that - but she had willingly called him her _boyfriend_.

So why in God's name was _he_ the one knocking and _Bates_ the one freely going in and out of her room?

When Paige's fingers trailed down his hand to wrap around his, Mike harshly tore it away and out of her reach, along with his entire body. Maybe he was being inconsiderate, but he was starting to feel like she was trying to play him. Had he been in his right mind and not blinded by what he knew was just jealousy, he would've found relief in knowing Paige wasn't that kind of person - that kind of _girl_. She could be flirty and use her charm to get what she wanted, but she wasn't one to hunt two rabbits at one time.

However, he couldn't help the irritating feeling that shot through his body: he either was still asleep or in a parallel universe, because Paige wasn't _bipolar _and that could be the only reason why she would act so different within very few hours.

Or maybe he was right, he had really gone crazy.

"No, it's fine. I have things to do anyway."

He briefly cast her a glance, before making a quick exit through her door, passing by the offended DEA agent - he carefully avoided even brushing past him.

"Mike-"

When the door slammed behind his back, burning her attempt at sweet talking him, Paige ran a hand through her hair, closing her eyes in annoyance and defeat.

How she hated this.

Mike was such a wonderful guy and had so many great qualities, but his possessiveness was something she would never fully understand. They had their _thing_ - he had her and she had him. Why couldn't he just be happy with it and stop getting jealous of every breathing thing that got too close to her?

Putting her thoughts aside, Paige sighed dramatically: she would have to talk to him later, but if he kept being like this, she would also have to send him an ultimatum. Their _thing_ couldn't go on like that.

She had never thought Mike would need more rules - he already had quite a few- so she had never even intended to set some between them. But obviously, that annoying control freak couldn't live without rules, could he?

Wayne eyed her with a sorrowful expression and gave her a small smile when her eyes set back on him. She felt her stomach churn with guilt. Okay, maybe Mike wasn't entirely at fault here.

Another sigh made its way out of her: _this was _seriously_ getting out of control._


	23. Are we tough enough for ordinary love?

**Hello! From now on, some drama will go down. I'm cutting out lots of stuff, so you won't suffer as long as I had previously planned you to lol I'm sorry if it'll suck a lil, but I'm really trying to wrap this up in fewer chapters, because I don't want to go too far from the original plot from the show. As I said at the beginning of this story, I'm going to focus on PIKE and their feelings in THIS story, by only slightly changing the storyline.**

**I'll take this as an opportunity to thank you all for the great reception - to think I had only planned 4 chapters! :)**

**On a side note, I've skipped a few chapters and written the last chapter instead, 'cause I felt inspirited and well... I really like how it turned out.**

**That being said, enjoy! **

**Thank you for all your reviews/messages/favorites :)**

**P.S. I just love me some MikexCharlie !**

**- xo, Mel**

* * *

><p>Pink and blue are such stupid colors.<p>

Charlie had never liked pink, not even when she had been a little girl. She had always been different - hung around with boys, instead of girls; preferred playing ball and refused to attend 'tea parties'; and, in high school, she'd always be pointed at as the troubled kid who'd do nothing but get into fights.

So yeah, pink pretty much resembled everything Charlie DeMarco wasn't.

On the other hand, blue was the emblem of sexism to her: in preschool they had taught her blue was the boys' color and boys - something she had later on come to _hate - _were a bunch of full headed, dumb lunkheads who saw girls like their possessions. But she never was and never would be somebody's possession: she was a woman and she was free. She was the hotshot star of her own life - nobody else could take that title but her. Not even Paul.

That's why she _hated_ that bright shade of blue before her eyes, shaped in a small, thin cross.

Now blue would forever have another meaning in her life: _change_.

Her life was about to change - her life as a fed, her life at Graceland and, most of all, her life with Paul. If they even had one still.

That was such a big problem: things were already strained between them, but a baby was definitely going to add a hell of a lot more pressure - pressure that could really blow everything up.

Her fingers clutched tightly the little white stick. Why did things seem to always get so much more complicated at worst times?

This wasn't just about the two of them. This was about the entire house and the secret she was carrying inside of her that threatened to destroy everybody - her family. Especially _Paul_ and _Mike_.

She was pretty sure those two were losing it. They were so much into the case that they had seemed to forget all those 'values' and 'principles' Graceland was made of.

Maybe this just wasn't meant to be. Maybe Mike had been right before: Graceland was nothing but a bunch of lies tied up together by even more lies.

And there she thought she could actually have a family of her own. Well, now she was going to: that baby was going to change everything. _Everything_.

Perhaps it was for the best if she left - but had any of those lying assholes cross her path again, she would've turned into full Rocky mode and beat the shit out of them for destroying what was her sacred - yet obviously imaginary - family.

As if on cue, two firm rounds of knocks stroke the door of her room. Charlie's eyes hastily looked at the smeared figure on the other side of her door.

"Whoever you are, ya better fuck off!"

She wasn't in the mood for anybody else's shit. She had enough of her own to deal with, she didn't need anyone else giving her burdens to keep - hell, she could even murder someone in that moment, she was so pissed off.

However, when the door stubbornly opened and Mike's head poked in from behind, with a sweet smile plastered on his face, she couldn't avoid softening at the sight.

"I come in peace."

"Mike-" Charlie sighed, ready to send him away with gentle, but resolute words.

"I'm offering a shoulder to cry on." Mike cut her off. He quickly slipped in, closing the door behind his back, and held up a white polystyrene tub of ice cream - spoons attached and everything. "And some French vanilla to extra sweeten our sour lives?"

"You can't take no as an answer, can you?" She smiled, motioning for him to get closer.

She quickly hid the pregnancy test in the pocket of her hoodie, as Mike sat down in front of her and took the lid off to deepen both their spoons in the frozen cream.

Charlie took a good spoonful, her eyes low.

He examined her appearance: hair messily pulled back in a high ponytail, loose hoodie and large sweatpants. Hadn't it been for the puffiness around her eyes and their opacity, nobody would've guessed she was going through something, aside from a rather tiring day.

Since the first time he had met her, Charlie had always been the one to show her feelings more than anybody else in the house. Sure, she always kept true to her bad girl attitude, but her eyes never lied: you could clearly see when she was hurt, when she was mad - actually, she showed that pretty well, with smart insults and powerful blows - and when she wasn't in the mood for a talk.

That was obviously the case, but Mike wasn't bound to give up until he had gotten something out of her.

The fight she had had with Briggs that morning had visibly shaken her up to the core and that would have eventually shaken up everybody else in the house: Charlie was Graceland's mainstay. If she trembled, everybody else would tremble with her.

"I just want to return the favor - you've always been there for me. And if it weren't for you…" He leant on his elbow, half laying on his side in front of her, and watched her slow movements as she swallowed scoop by scoop.

Things with Paige had always been complicated. Because Paige was the embodiment of complexity, but Charlie being Charlie had found a way to push the two together.

Hadn't it been for his fellow FBI agent, he would've never summoned up the courage and forced himself to come clean with that ray of sunshine that had been haunting his life for almost a year and a half now. She really was their mainstay.

Charlie shook her head at the glimmer of his unspoken words; she played around with her spoon, still avoiding his eyes. "You both deserved some peace of mind - at least somebody in this house can have that."

Her words hit him with a sense of gloom that made him furrow his eyebrows and sit back up - one hand squeezing her knee reassuringly.

"Will you tell me what's bothering you? Where did your smile go?"

He was now leaning over her and grasping her chin, trying to get a full look of her face. However, Charlie turned her head the other way, pushing his hand off.

"I wish I could, Mikey."

"You can. I won't tell anybody - you know, I'm pretty good at keeping secrets."

"Like everybody else in this house." She let out a bitter laugh. "It's not supposed to be like this - we're supposed to be honest and faithful to each other."

"Speaking of being faithful…" Mike murmured, suddenly way more interested. She cursed under her breath: he was so sneaky and so observant, she had to choose her next words carefully if she wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible without arising more suspicions in him. "Are you and Briggs having problems?"

_There_. Why couldn't he be more like Jakes and less like Briggs? Those two were so alike: pushing and pushing for more until they got what they wanted. Maybe Paul was right, after all. Maybe Mike wasn't as naive and innocent as he used to be.

"Something like that."

"Charlie…" Mike reached out for her again, but this time she grasped his wrist before he could make any sort of contact with her skin and forcefully shoved him back. She had to get the upper hand on this, or he would never give up.

"No, Mike. I can't turn this out on you now, okay? I'm just tired. So tired."

She didn't need anybody trying to fix her. She watched as his clean face contorted with worry and hope - for what, by the way? This was her life and her mess. He was just trying to get to Paul and use her on the way.

"Look, if he's hurting you in any way, just say the word and I'll take care of it." Or maybe he was just sincerely trying to help her. Jesus, she wasn't even a few weeks in and her hormones were already taking the best of her.

Sighing, Charlie covered his hand with hers and smiled weakly at him; his blue orbs fixed on hers.

"Thanks, but I can deal with it on my own."

"You sure?"

"Go spoil _your_ girl, loverboy." She patted his cheek with a sideway smirk and a knowing look in her eyes.

Mike couldn't help but think about how little she knew about them, even though she had played a big role in the development of their relationship.

He debated whether sharing his thoughts with her or not, but eventually chose the second option: she could deny it all she wanted and act like everything was fine, but Mike knew she was just playing tough - she was keeping everything inside, something that would tear her apart, sooner or later.

After the Jangles/Briggs mess, Paige had made sure to periodically remind him what catastrophic consequences holding back stuff and emotions could bring.

_Paige_. How he wanted to ask Charlie for advice.

Instead, he kept himself from smiling back at her and turned his hand to squeeze hers back, lacing their fingers .

"If you need anything…" He nodded seriously at her to make his point.

"I've got ice cream and a bed, I'm fine - go. I'll see you at dinner."

Despite the failing attempt of a smile on Charlie's face, Mike held onto his serious tone and his thumb rubbed softly across the back of her hand. "I mean it, Charlie. I'm right down the hall, okay?" She nodded, finally giving in with a stronger smile. "Okay. Thanks for the talk."

He wasn't convinced, obviously, but he let it slide and smiled back with a soft '_okay_' - his arms sneaked around her comfy form and wrapped her into a firm hug. He kissed her cheek, rubbing her back in circles and Charlie's heart clenched slightly at his next words.

"You can always count on me."

If there was one thing she had always liked about Mikey was the way he always tried to fix things, even those he hadn't been involved with in the first place. His superhero complexity could drive anybody crazy, but it was nice to know there was at least one person in the house that really believed in what they were doing - that would always try to be the _good_ one.

She watched as he sneaked back out of her room - the two of them exchanged a quick small smile before he disappeared from where he had come.

His brief visit had somehow managed to really sweeten the sour feelings she had been experiencing just moments before: maybe they were all messed up, but they were also the kind of people she really needed to be around.

Her _family_, after all.

"Love you too, Mikey."

* * *

><p>On his way downstairs to go back to work, Mike's head was filled with so many thoughts that for a moment he forgot all about the case.<p>

What the hell was happening these days? It seemed like he and Jakes were the only one left in the house who still had their mind set. They all seemed to be turning into new people. Especially Paige.

_Paige_. He knew she would have been a lot of work, but he had expected a little more help from her. Up until the night before, she had been her usual self. But that morning he had apparently woken up in a parallel universe, because she was being nothing like herself.

He couldn't help but think about the way she had shied away from him at breakfast.

When had Paige ever been shy?!

Maybe that wasn't shyness. Maybe that was her being tired of his over affectionate gestures? Maybe she was just tired of him, just like he had first thought the night before?

_'Oh, screw you, Warren.'_

If he had been such a pain in the ass all along, no wonder Paige was acting so strangely lately. To top it all off, he had also made that scene before, when Zelanski had walked in… what an idiot.

Cursing himself under his breath, Mike turned around on the stairs and walked back straight to Paige's room, determined to clear things up between them.

If there was a problem, they had to face it. _Together_.

However, when he was just a few steps away from her room, he noticed the door was slightly cracked open and, even if he hadn't meant to, he found himself creeping behind the wall to spy inside when he heard voices.

_Voices_.

Paige wasn't alone, talking on the phone. Paige was with somebody. Unfortunately, he was well aware of who that somebody was. Zelanski.

It had been hours since he had left them in her room, had they been there all along?

Mike tried to keep his breath under control. He knew he was just being stupid, but Paige… how could he keep himself from getting jealous over her after everything they'd been through to get to this point?

He needed to stop this. He needed to stop worrying so much about her - she was perfectly capable of looking after herself and brush off all those idiots leering at her.

Shaking his head, he embraced himself to walk away: spying on Paige? Really? He had seriously hit rocked the bottom, this time.

However, his eyes caught a glimpse of something that inevitably made his blood boil: there, sat on the bed, was Paige - Zelanski on her side and legs crossed indian style; one hand on his thigh. The look of awe in the guy's eyes as Paige leant closer to whisper something made Mike's hands start to itch: if he hadn't known better, he would've thought Paige was deliberately punishing him for spying on them. After all, they were just two colleagues probably discussing a case.

So why did he feel like there was more to them cosying up than just a case?

* * *

><p>Later that night, they found themselves all together at dinner: Briggs and Mike faced each other at the ends of the table; Paige sat on Mike's right, while Johnny took the seat on his left, right next to Charlie. Jakes and Zelanski closed the circle respectively on Briggs's right and left.<p>

They were all having a nice time, sharing funny stories and little tidbits from their past crazy cases, but Mike had kept a low profile and had been silent all night long. Way too silent.

However, it seemed like only Paige had noticed his sudden change from the very first moment they had started setting the table: he had been in charge of making margaritas with Jakes and he had silently got his duty done - his usual happy smile missing. It was like he was in a whole different world of his and he just didn't want to come out. Not even when she had passed by him to get to the table and dropped a kiss to his shoulder. Instead, he had simply continued to apply salt on the frozen margarita glass in his hands, not even acknowledging her gesture.

When Johnny had finished with his story, the whole table erupted in laughter. Except, of course, Mike. His eyes were staring off into space, casually glancing at the girl on his right whenever she'd brush her foot up his calf or squeeze his knee with her hand. Their eyes would meet briefly, before he'd go back to his thoughts.

Once again, Paige reached under the table to lay her hand on his thigh. The gesture made Mike freeze in his seat, and he jolted back when the image of her and Zelanski together in that same position popped up in his head.

She furrowed her eyebrows and leaned in with concern written all over her face. "Are you okay?" She whispered.

Mike shrugged her off with a slight nod, casually taking her hand off of him when Wayne started a story of his own. He was through with her being hot and cold whenever she wanted.

He looked down at his plate, playing with his food - he had barely eaten. Unlike the others, he had had just some wine and nibbles here and there.

"So the guy's like trying to play with my mind. Like he thinks I'm some kind of dumb idiot-"

A loud snort made the whole table turn their attention to Mike.

"Wonder why. They sure as hell can tell an idiot when they see one." He retorted without even glancing back at the offended DEA agent, even though he could feel everybody's eyes on him and the tension that had filled the silence following his rude comment.

Paige whipped her head around - her mouth slightly open in shock. "Mike." She scolded him, sternly.

He looked up at her, returning her hostile stare for a brief moment, before he cast a look around the table and finally set his eyes on Charlie.

"Sorry, Chuck. I'm not that hungry anymore."

Throwing his napkin down, Mike pushed himself off his chair, quickly exiting the living room - Paige's eyes burning holes into his back.

He went for the stairs, but eventually decided to sneak out the back door and onto the beach. He breathed into the night air, closing his eyes and cracking his neck to break off the tension. His body felt like a nervous wreck.

As he neared the shore, he felt the pressure and the stress of the entire week weighting down on him. It was incredible what kind of an effect a dark beach could have: eyes closed, he was swallowed up by the crashing sound of the waves at his feet and caught up by an evening shower.

It wasn't long before he felt _her_ presence behind him.

Even though he didn't make a move or say a word, Paige knew he was well aware she was there. And even though the sight of him ankle deep in the water brought back nice memories of the last time they had been out there - _together - _she wasn't going to let that distract her and make her forget_ why _she had gone after him.

"What the hell was that about?"

Her eyes watched as his back tensed and straightened up: taking a few steps closer, her toes were slightly grazed by the foam of the waves.

"Why don't you tell me."

She hugged herself, stroking her bare arms, as his harsh tone startled her. "Mike." She tried helplessly to lay a hand on his back, but once more he jerked away, leaving her speechless. When had he ever refused her touches?

"What's going on between you and Bates?"

Mike wasn't even looking at her, yet she felt like being put under the spotlight by his judgey-eyed stare - trying to break her.

"What?" She managed to croak out.

_'Damn, P. Could you be more obvious?' _

She shook herself and took back control of her body just in time for him to turn around and stare directly into her eyes. What she saw, however, wasn't pleasant at all: the bright blueness of his eyes had been replaced by a stormy, dark color and the tenderness he usually reserved to her had changed into a much tougher look of determination.

"Don't play me, Paige. Do you think I'm stupid or what? We've barely spent 10 mints together. Are you trying to tell me something here?"

For a moment she thought that somehow Mike had found out. Yet, the aura of insecurity surrounding him and his questions confirmed he was still oblivious to everything.

Of course, Mike being Mike had his suspicions and she damned him for being so damn good at his job. One day and he had already caught up. '_Again, maybe if you hadn't been so obvious…_'

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have to be with you 24/7."

Paige tried to sound more convincing and to hide the uneasiness she was feeling under his hard stare. However, when he snorted again and shortened the distance between them, she couldn't stop herself from looking away. His stare and tone were becoming impossible to hold - she was slowly feeling herself starting to lose her control - how she hated that snorting sound right now and his capacity of keeping so calm despite the imminent fight that was coming.

"Whenever I get close or try to touch you, you push me away. But when he's around, you suddenly become less coy. Every time I come looking for you, you two are always together. It's like-" For a moment, Mike lost his firm tone and his voice cracked. "We used _to_ _text_ before."

If at the sound of his voice breaking Paige had felt the natural instinct of reaching out to him, the hidden accusation behind that sentence made her blood bubbling and rising in her veins. It crawled into her skull and looked out her eyes: was he really comparing her friendship with Wayne to the first phase of their relationship? When they'd do nothing but sneak around all the time?

"Oh my God, you think I'm screwing Wayne." When he avoided her eyes and fidgeted in his place, Paige let out a bitter laugh and rolled her eyes, throwing her arms up. She was really starting to lose her patience. "You do! Jesus, you're such an ass."

"I can't stand people touching what's mine."

"I'm not a thing!"

"You're _my thing_, Paige!" Her heart leapt up when Mike's voice boomed out all of a sudden, cutting her off. Such that almost everybody nearby could hear. She stared at him in disbelief, momentarily forgetting their fight. Usually, he'd never lose his patience like that. Not with her, at least. It had only happened once and it had been about the case - when it came to them, he'd always been the careful one; she was the wild card.

A moment of bewildered silence followed and they stared deeply in each other's eyes, before the force of his statement finally hit her. Who did he think he was, talking to her like that? He didn't own her.

"You know, you're being such a baby right now! You spend all your time with Jessica too - _alone_. But I'm not complaining!"

Once again, Mike looked away and turned around. "That's different." He murmured.

"Why? 'Cause I have a history of hook ups and one night stands? Please, you've been screwing her all along!" She spat out the last part with venom, cringing at the image that flashed through her mind.

Jessica, on top of him, rocking her body to get to her cl- _ew_. She wanted to smack him hard for even making her think about that.

But before Paige could get close enough to give him a thick ear and no mistake, his words froze her on the spot.

"I just want to know if you still want this or if I'm the only one here trying to make things work."

He was looking at her, completely lost. As if what had been going on between them for the past month had been nothing but a dream. As if that hadn't been a proof per se of what _their thing _meant to her.

Truthfully, she could hardly blame him: she was giving him every reason to worry, but for him to doubt her commitment to _their thing_? That was just unconceivable to her.

She wasn't one to date. She hadn't done that in years now, but she was trying hard not to let him down. Of course, she was a handful - he had told her that himself - and she had warned him about her obnoxiousness, but she was really trying. She was going against her own nature and acting like a freaking girl. For him.

Well, maybe that was the problem. Maybe trying to turn herself into somebody she wasn't just to please him was truly ruining everything.

Except, she wasn't really sure who she was anymore. She was slowly starting to unveil her true feelings, but every time she revealed bits of them, she lost a piece of her old self.

When Mike was around she felt like one person, when he wasn't… she felt like a totally different one. That scared her, so much. But she was working on it.

However, the way Mike was acting right now was so pedantic and simply distasteful; she couldn't let it slide. Even if his puppy-dog looks were also smothering her to the point where she wanted to reach out and muffle him in her arms. She was right on the cusp of giving in, when her pride won her over and she pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. Mike's shoulders slumped in resignation and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, since she beat him on time.

"You know what? This is so stupid. I'm going back inside to enjoy dinner with _my people. _You work your shit out and come back when you've grown up a little bit, 'cause right now you're not acting like the man I _want_ to be with."

Paige purposely emphasized the word '_want_' just to hurt him - judging by the way his face seemed to crash in sorrow, she had succeeded in her endeavor.

Although those eyes… Shaking her head, she turned around and resolutely walked back inside, leaving him on his own, just like she had found him.

She couldn't give in - as bad as it felt like to see him hurt, he had to learn how to control his temper over stuff like this. It was never going to work if his pride and jealousy _always_ won him over.

What neither one of them knew was that this had nothing to do with jealousy.

Of course, Mike hated people ogling at her. But for a completely different reason.

Standing alone, out there, he could get lost into his reflections and finally come to realization. '_Work his shit out_'. Just like Paige had so elegantly put it.

The only reason why he'd get so overprotective was because he was _scared_ to the bone.

Paige was the only one who could make him feel like that. Scared. Up until then, he had never feared to lose somebody so much. That's why at the first sign of trouble or threat, his inner jealous side would burst out. It had never happened before. At least, not this bad.

It was all _her_.

She could bring both the best and the worst out of him. He had all these flaws he was able to hid inside - flaws that would cause cracks on the outside that only she was able to fill and heal.

Even if she was unaware of that kind of power she had over him. Of the way her presence overwhelmed him and made him a better person. He would never let her know that he was charcoal grey inside, but he really didn't need to.

Because even if she'd never say anything about it, he knew that she could see right through him and feel his unseen fears through her caresses.

Mike wasn't jealous. He was just afraid. Utterly terrified at the thought of losing her.


End file.
